So We Stand
by Petty Officer First Class Boo
Summary: Captain Anderson Ryu leads Advanced Force Operations Susanowo made up of members from the Japanese Special Forces. One of their two directives is to survey regions beyond Falmart and make contact. With a rebuilding kingdom, Susanowo would uncover a much more sinister plot beyond the reaches of the Empire. One that could plunge the recovering Empire into a civil war.
1. Chapter 0: Prologue

Author's Note **(spoilers)** : This story takes place after the end of Season 2 when Princess Pina becomes empress of the Empire. This story works on the assumption that multiple gates appear on the world to populate the world over time with different races, the gates as we know it are completely random locations save for a few select gates.

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So We Stand

Prologue: So We Stand

"Get up!" a grunt escaped from my hoarse voice as I lifted up a cowering lump from the ground, "get up and fight! We're all going to be dead if you don't!"

"But Major," murmured back the crying Japanese infantryman, "my ribs…it hurts too much."

My teeth grinded together in a building rage.

"You think I'm not in pain?! Don't you see this face? There's still acid burning across my face, my left arm has second degree burns and your friends have broken legs and arms yet they're still fighting! You don't have an excuse Private! You joined the JGSDF to serve your country, do not let the rising sun down!" I screamed, my voice like gravely sand.

The Japanese soldier continued crying.

We were amidst a large battle. Bullets zipped by my head in one direction. Arrows, fire, acid and bolts of energy screamed back towards us in their slow arcs. I commanded a small force of thirty-five soldiers. Their Captain was wounded and being treated behind our defensive line that was the entire port of a small city called Ruean. Six thousand kilometers away from both our first and second homes, we fought on a continent never before discovered and in a war we never wanted to enter with in the first place. Waves of serpentine warriors clad in medieval armor and dark elves in their leather armor threw themselves at the trenches that were dug just a dozen meters from the beaches of the port. The small decline filled with barbwire and foliage was all that stood between us and the force of five thousand or more fighters jumping off large rafts sailing in from larger boats off the shore. There was a total of three hundred and thirty of us spread across two kilometers of trenches.

"Susanowo Actual, Saber One, Alliance forces inbound from the northwest. Forty mikes out, stand by for relief. How copy?" came the burst of transmission in my left ear amongst other radio chatter.

"Solid copy Saber One! Keep me posted!" I screamed back.

My hands reached into my left thigh pouch and retrieved a small syringe.

I jabbed the syringe into the crying infantryman's shoulder, "don't you give up on me now soldier! Stand up and fight!"

I couldn't focus on one man when an entire platoon was depending on me to lead it.

"Susanowo Actual, Susanowo Three, foot mobiles crossing the second defensive line," a gruff voice, calm as ice reported.

"Radio operator!" I screamed, "call in artillery from the Ashigara! Give me Willy Pete all across the first defensive line! And Tomahawks on those new vessels!"

"Yes Major Anderson!" the spry Private First Class nodded as his hand shook the radiophone glued to his ear, "Ashigara, Ashigara, this is Katana 1-6! Requesting Willy Pete all across the trenches danger close at the first defensive line! Wind direction is to the East! Requesting Tomahawk strike on new vessels, Suzume 2-1 will uplink data from MSTAR radar via Link 16 for targeting!"

"Conserve your ammo! Double tap your weapons, once to the chest and once to the head! Focus on casters first and let the LMGs cut down the warriors!" I instructed, standing next to a machine gun crew.

"Kuso! (Shit!) Weapon jam!" the machine gunner grunted as his pulled hard on the charging handle of his Sumitomo M249.

I gently pushed the soldier away, my fingers and hand flaring with pain from activity. I held my rifle like a hammer with the buttstock pointed back. The Mark 17 SCAR-H slammed into the charging handle with its polymer and rubber butt pad with a dull thunk. The six kilogram loaded weapon impacted the small metal protrusion with visible force and on the third try the charging handle flew back smoothly. A bent link and bullet was spat out from the ejection port. There was a nod from the machine gunner as he racked the weapon three times to make sure it was feed smoothly before resuming his fire on the enemy charging us from the front. It was like a scene out of a historical movie with thousands of rafts filled with fighters, roaring and ready to go. My cheek burned with pain from the acid as my right gloved hand ran over the long beard. The entirety of my left arm was on fire with pieces of clothing stuck to my skin from a fireball launched earlier in the battle. It had cooled but that made it all the worse with pus oozing out from the singed flesh not to mention the constant throbbing in my left leg. I raised my rifle and squeezed the grenade launcher's heavy trigger.

 _Pop!_

The forty-millimeter shell sailed into the air spinning at over three thousand and six hundred revolutions per minute before impacting the ground with the large bang. A cloud of brown dust kicked up from the slope. Hot shrapnel from the air-burst grenade sliced through infantry and mages akin to a hot knife going through butter. Dozens crumpled into the blood soaked ground while others behind trampled over them. A few slipped past the wall of lead and gunfire but sergeants equipped with Howa Type 89 affixed with bayonets dealt with them swiftly. Blood flowed freely on the blood soaked beaches. Why were we even here? How could a diplomatic meeting go so sideways? We were never meant to be in this world, one far behind that of ours by at least a couple hundred years. And here we are, soldiers from Japan touting peace and morals to a world still in its infancy. Would they abandon their slavery once they had developed far enough to our level of technological advancements? We're here now and whatever would happen would happen. Fate would decide what happens from here on out.

"Ryu!" a female voice called out behind me, "the Red Dragons have evacuated the civilians in the town and are joining us in battle…your arm it's burnt."

"I'm okay Panache," I gave her a small smile, "otsukaresama (thanks for your hard work.) Now it's my turn."

"Arrowpoint has been overrun Major!" reported a soldier.

Three hundred meters away and at the center of the trench line was The Colonel responsible for coordinating my team. Arrowpoint was the position he manned with another thirty-five men. Despite his high rank, he was adamant to be at the tip of the spear. It was like him since he was a former Marine Raider.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, "Panache, I'll leaving this platoon up to you. I'm going to the Colonel."

"Eh? Me?" she said flustered.

"You're trained to do this. Don't make my four months of hard work go to waste okay?" I replied and patted her on the combat helmet.

Her emerald eyes burned with confidence as she shook her head.

"Don't get yourself hurt! You have to come back to me alive!" she yelled after me, raising her own rifle to fire.

"This is Raider, my team's moving backwards to the third defense line! We're sustaining heavy fire at Arrowpoint! I'll stay here and hold them off as long as possible!" the loud and rapid bangs in the background.

"Susanowo Actual, Raider I'm coming to you now! Just hold on!" I screamed into the radio.

"You don't have to kiddo! Argh!" a yelp of anger shot into my ears followed by an inhuman hiss.

I jumped out of the trench with a laborious grunt. It was not easy getting my weapon, my equipment and pack over the chest high wall while having a burnt arm and acid slowly eating away my face. Every muscle in my body cried for me to stop. After all we had been in contact for nearly two hours. The mass of bodies seemed to continue to rush from the large lake that separated this nation from the other. Whistling from large balls of fire, blots of ice and blobs of acid was ever close. The largely inaccurate mortar fire slammed all over the place but one or two lucky ones found its spot in the trenches. Casualties were mounting and we only had so much ammunition to continue fighting. Man-portable mortars popped from behind me, their whistling overhead as they arced high into the air. A plume of dirt brown dust, mud, dark blue and red blood shot high into the sky from the impact.

My lungs burned as I struggled to close the distance.

Three hundred meters seemed so far away in the chaos of the battlefield.

Eyes glanced over to the trenches to see the men under my command caked in their comrade's and enemy's blood, mud splattered onto their fresh faces and reddened eyes from the extended strain of battle. Soldiers wielding firearms fresh from boot camp were pitted against seasoned warriors armed to the teeth with magic and steel. It was a battle of attrition and we were on the losing side. They would never be the same again after this battle. Nevertheless, the continued to make our stand.

 _Whump! Whump!_

Clouds of white shot out from the ground not far from Arrowpoint. Like a wall of white, the sparks and orbs of burning yellow rose from the ground and sprayed the ground with white phosphorus smoke. Voluminous clouds quickly expanded to block the entire beach, obscuring mages and casters from seeing their targets. Any warriors running through the wall of white would be quickly met with the hazardous side effects of Willy Pete. Splashed oils from grease grenades on the bodies of fallen warriors ignited with a dull bang and a bright flash of orange. Their own bombs were used against their own as I continued to jog through the mix of blood and mud. My boots were getting heavy from the muck accumulating on the soles of my feet and legs were burning with lactic acid.

"All call signs listen up!" I grunted into the radio, "this is Major Anderson Ryu from AFO Susanowo! The Alliance is thirty minutes away! We're here to capture Prince Zorzal because if we don't then this army will march and sail all the way to Falmart and the peace we brought to the continent will be all in vain! Word would have reached the rebel sleeper cells by now and a revolt is surely going to happen! We stop them here and we stop them now so that our brothers at Alnus can handle the revolt without having to worry about vampire-snakes and dark elves becoming the next empire! This is where we make our stand! The Kusanagi will make its mark in history, you hear me!"

Kusanagi or its full name Kusanagi no Tsurugi (Grass-Cutting Sword), the nickname of the unit I was now assigned to – the 1st Japanese Expeditionary Unit.

"Ryokai!" the men screamed loudly both on the radio and behind me in the trenches.

And so we made our stand.


	2. Chapter 1: Susanowo, God of the Sea

Chapter One: Susanowo, God of the Sea and Storms

Rumbling. A deep vibration that shook through my whole body. I could hear my breath inside my head, the hiss of oxygen forcefully being pushed into my lungs before being exhaled with labor. The rushing of air flowing rapidly across Plexiglas could be heard through the physical barrier separating me from the blue cloud filled sky outside. Loud whining from a turbofan engine filled my ears as my left hand instinctively pushed the side throttle all the way forward. There was distinct click as the whining rumble turned into a roar. My body was pushed back further into the ejection seat from the increased acceleration. A violent shuddering tore through the aircraft for a few seconds before settling down. I was going past the sound barrier, flying faster than the speed of sound. Supersonic.

Through the heads-up display, I maneuvered the side stick deftly to place the small airplane symbology just above the voluminous clouds dotting the skies like mountains on the Earth. I watched the clouds consume the aircraft with a frighteningly quick speed. I glanced back and barely saw the blue wings of my aircraft flickering in and out of the dense cumulonimbus, the red roundel of the Japanese Air Self Defense Force just visible in the cloud body. Water droplets splattered onto the bubble canopy. Like rain sliding down glass, the water droplets left streaks of liquid all around the acrylic glass. As fast as I entered the clouds, the multi-role jet punched out of the other side of the other side as I rolled the aircraft left and pulled hard to maneuver around.

 _Hrgh, uh. Hrgh, uh._

I could hear my instinctive breathing in my oxygen mask. My legs and abdomen tensed. The weight on my body multiplied, I watched the number on the HUD tick from one to nine Gs. I felt an enormous weight crushing my frame as the jet swung around a tall storming cloud that rose out from in front of me like a smoke column. With a jerk of the stick, I rolled the Mitsubishi F-2B right to resume my designated flight path. Once again pulling hard and feeling the weight bear down on me akin to the burden of the world. I was a Japanese Air Self Defense pilot, trained to defend Japanese ground from all invaders. I glanced back to see the wings curling up with a small cloud of white water vapor forming over the leading edge of the wing. It was a sobering thought that both scared me and motivated me as I leveled out the aircraft.

Pressing a button on the lower multifunction colored display, I looked for my destination. It seemed like I was flying my aircraft, number 611 from Misawa to Fukuoka. I smoothly rolled the Viper Zero inverted and pushed lightly down on the stick. My body started to feel light before being pulled upwards from the negative gs. A vast sea of small rectangular boxes dotted the landscape with Tokyo tower prominently poking out of the ground higher than the buildings around it. Skyscrapers sliced through the sky far below me as I soared at well over ten thousand feet. A sea of dominated by grey, red and some green. This was an urban jungle. I reached up with my left hand, touching the warm acrylic bubble canopy heated from the sun. Red started to fill my field of view as I leveled out.

A rumble of thunder shook me in my seat as I glanced up to see the blue sky dim to a pitch black darkness.

My heart started to race.

Flashes of purple and blue light lit up the insides of invisible clouds.

The horizon disappeared.

I was sitting inside the cockpit with the instruments lighting up the inside of the aircraft. More cracks of thunder and a flash of lightning lit the darkened sky just in front of me. I could see the dark grey nose cone of my jet. Scrambling, I switched on the external formation lights. A pulsing red and green flashed on the wings and fuselage but I couldn't see anything else. I was flying blind. The instruments flickered into BIT (Built-in Test) mode. They were failing. My breathing started picking up and adrenaline coursed through my body. Water splashed against the canopy, I couldn't see anything beyond the nose of my aircraft. I pulled back on the stick to gain altitude and gain my bearings from above the storm. A dark tunnel started constricting my vision. G-LOC, g-force induced loss of consciousness. I trained to keep it from happening but my body wasn't responding, I kept pulling until the world was suddenly just – black.

 _Beep beep beeeeep!_

It was the sound of a car honking, a bright light in my eyes. I raised my eyes to shield them. I was back home. The streets lined with lights shining down on the glistening asphalt. No one was on the sidewalks. It was a two-way road narrow enough just for two cars and people walking to and from. Two vending machines were placed opposite of the street from me with a seven-eleven open for service. A lady and man worked the counter. Their faces turned to face me with shock written all over them. I could hear her screaming through the glass. I turned to my left to see two pairs of headlights blinding me. There was a smack and a crunch, I screamed out in agonizing pain.

 _Knock, knock._

The sound of knuckles slamming against a metal door.

My eyes shot open.

Laying down in a standard four-walled dormitory, I sat up and glanced down. My body was drenched in sweat with a pain induced throbbing in my left leg. Dryness stung my throat and mouth as I swallowed. I swung my legs from the bed and placed my feet on the cool ground. Pain exploded from contact between flesh and stone. A grunt escaped my lips as I pushed the pain towards the back of my head and stood up. Across the room, a mirror in the bathroom reflected a round eyed gaunt man with a black beard that grew to neck length while his head was shaved in the standard military high buzz cut with blue eyes. I grunted once more, hobbling over to the door. I grabbed the knob, twisted it and pulled it open.

"Anderson!" exclaimed a surprised soldier, "I thought you would never wake up. I heard some thrashing going on in there, you alright?"

"Yeah," I murmured rolling my shoulders to hear my bones cracking, "I'm just having a bad dream…"

"Colonel Kungen wants to see you in his office in fifteen minutes. Most of Susanowo will be there too except for Kazuki…something about the National Security Bureau wanting to talk to him. Whatever, Kazuki's police so I have no business poking my nose in his affairs," the soldier replied as I nodded, patting the younger man on the soldier.

"I'll be there Okuda, just make sure that Sanada and Ishihara get out of bed will you? I want to make sure that they don't treat coming to the Special Region like a vacation," I croaked, throat dry.

"Yes Captain," Okuda saluted as I closed the door.

Shuffling back over to the bed, I plopped down. I glanced down at my left leg with a sigh and started to massage the muscle. It was taut and hard as a rock but that doesn't mean it makes it any better. Anderson was what they called me, my last name. Ryu Anderson was the name I was born with. Half-American, half-Japanese, I grew up in Japan for all of my life while my father traveled the world. I was also a former fighter pilot forced to transfer after an accident. Ironically enough it was my father, Thomas Anderson, who convinced me to transfer from the Air Defense Force to the Ground Defense Force. My father was the best soldier I had ever known, more accurately, he was the best Marine I ever knew. He traveled the world for thirty-four years as a special operations marine, the best of the best before retiring just a year before I deployed to the Special Region.

Fate worked in strange ways and here I am, an operator from Japanese Special Forces Group in Falmart.

I chuckled, wiping the sweat from my forehead and pushing my body off the bed.

Ever since Itami Yoji has returned to Japan, the Ministry of Defense was in an uproar. The government wanted to survey the rest of the Special Region and determine what kind of resources would be available to them in addition to all the geographical landscape. With foreign pressure, even groups of foreigners like Americans, the British and Germans were being allowed to integrate with the Japanese Self Defense Force. Thus, Advanced Force Operations Susanowo was established to provide a versatile force capable of tackling anything in the air, land or sea. Made up of personnel from the 1st Airborne Unit, Special Forces Group, Special Assault Team, Special Boarding Unit and Western Army Infantry Regiment, we were tasked with the support of the Special Task Force and the surveillance of the land and sea. Although we are attached to Colonel Shunya Kengun's 4th Combat Unit, we answered directly to the minister of defense.

A destroyer, DD-151 Japanese Ship Asagiri, was already deployed in the southern Falmart sea. The Asagiri had a previous mission to provide naval support to the ground elements in form of their 76mm main cannon similar to a more mobile artillery unit. The Asagiri's role would change as two more ships were being transferred during the three months we were to be in Alnus to form the 1st Special Region Escort Flotilla. The ship we were to be assigned to was the DDG-178 or the JS Ashigara, a missile destroyer. The Ashigara bristled to brim with the newest technologies, carrying ninety-six cells of air launched torpedoes and tomahawk anti-ship and anti-ground missiles. It was a change in Japanese stance on the Special Region, increasing their investment on the profitable land. The two destroyers would escort the LST-4003 JS Kunisaki, a landing ship, tank tasked to ferry helicopters, armored troops and vehicles in support for the Special Task Force around the coastal regions of Falmart. I would describe the duty of the 1st Special Region Escort Flotilla to be analogous to the Starship Enterprise since I was a massive Star Trek nerd during my childhood years. My father would bring home DVDs each time he came to visit us after his tours in Afghanistan and Iraq.

We would boldly go to where no man on Earth had gone before.

Opening the small metal wardrobe mean to hold my clothes and gear, I pulled out a standard set of Type III Flecktran camouflage clothing. The triple colored brown, green and khaki uniform felt like a second skin. I couldn't go anywhere without it. I grabbed the combat cap and placed it over my head before walking out of the room and towards Colonel Kungen's office. The sun shined down as I exited the barracks. Warmth bathed my skin and the air was crispy, fresh and most certainly addicting. The atmosphere was different from anywhere on Earth, clean since there were no cars on the planet. It felt like a drug, I just wanted to breathe more of it. Alnus hill was always bustling with activity. Humans rushing to and from buildings to buildings, humanoids who were auxiliary officers manned the military police garrison. The first humanoid I came into contact with was Myuute Luna Sires. She was a Siren with fluffy ears, a head full of feathers and her limbs were covered in much of the same. It took some time to stop staring at her. She became uncomfortable when nine men gazed at her even if it was to satisfy our curiosity. Funnily enough, Sanada and Sawada bore the claw marks on their faces after staring for wrong reasons. Those two were always and will be, downright perverts.

I entered the three-story command post. It was pretty hard to miss being the largest building built at the center of the base. Wide and spacious corridors with rooms furnished with chairs, desks and cupboards, the command post was the same standard structure found in each major garrison back in Japan. Colonel Kungen's office was located on the first floor. And it wasn't hard to find his room with seven of my men already standing at attention in front of it. I glanced at the men I was to be serving with for a year in the Special Region. All shapes and sizes filled my squad with all of them being extremely fit, for it was our mission to push the envelope of Japanese exploration in the strange world. All of them wore dark sunglasses to shield their eyes. It was a twofold etiquette to shield our eyes from people and to intimidate them. I came to a stop at the end of the line with my second in command, 2nd Lieutenant Ikeda Hachemon, saluting me.

"Ikeda?" I asked, standing in front of the seven.

"Six men present with two missing due to police business sir!" Ikeda reported calmly, snapping a salute.

"Now, now" I said saluting him back, "you don't have to be that rigid."

"Just following the rules sir," he replied, as he returned to attention.

"We've known each other for almost a year, you don't have to be so formal," I murmured waving my hand at him before turning around to face the door.

There was no answer.

I took a deep breath, pulling out my own Oakley's and slipping them on to be the same with my men. I knocked on the door exactly three times and paused just a second in between. We had met with the command of the entire Special Task Force the day before to report out arrival. Lieutenant General Koichiro Hazama was a respected commander even before coming to the new land. I had been involved in joint training exercises with Hazama. He had also earned respect from his fellow peers in foreign militaries as being a tactical genius, making the hard calls when time came. A gruff voice replied the knocks.

"Enter."

I swung the door open and entered the room.

It was a sparsely decorated one with military awards, memorabilia and photos placed around the room. On his desk was a single photo of him in full combat uniform and weapon standing next to a girl with purple hair and full knight armor with a cape. He looked up from his paperwork to examine us as we filed into the room and stood at attention, arms firm at our sides. I didn't look back and heard the door slam shut. The squeaking of boots stopped as a second later I snapped my salute.

"Captain Anderson Ryu, Advanced Force Operations Susanowo reporting for positing sir! Seven currently accounted for, two outliers due to requests from the police bureau sir!" I yelled.

Colonel Kungen stood up, he was a full head shorter than I was but after all I was a hulking man since I acquired genes from my father. Kungen was not to be disregarded. His body was built solidly like a bull as he returned my salute. Brown eyes like immoveable stone scanned each and every one of us in great detail before he spoke.

"At ease gentlemen. Welcome to the Special Region," he said with a loud booming voice, "this is land unlike any of you have seen before. I know you answer directly to the ministry of defense but I will be your commanding officer for most of your stay here. As you have been briefed, your first three months will be spent here on Alnus hill while the Ashigara and Izumo are moved from the Japanese dry docks to Falmart waters. You will then deploy to the Ashigara to be a part of her boat unit. Your mission is to be the surveillance of Special Region waters, to make contact with tribes and humanoids far from the Falmart continent as well as support of the Special Task Force. After six months on the Ashigara you'll transition back here for another three months and sent home. Whether you come back here or not will be up to you once you rotate back."

I remained tight lip watching him brief us as he picked up a clipboard.

"You'll receive orders from 2nd Lieutenant Hasegawa Morie in the communications room in the same building. It should be on the first floor. Should you get lost contact the front desk," Colonel Kungen finished, flipping through his clipboard as he glanced up at me, "Captain Anderson. I understand you used to fly fighter jets is that correct?"

"Yes sir," I replied curtly.

"Two F-2Bs are coming in today from Japan and another two will arrive five days from now. I have a special someone ah…" Kungen blushed, this was the first time I saw him express any emotion at all, "request that I take her comrade to view the jets. Since you used to fly, I'll grant you permission along with a representative from the Rose-Order of Knights access to the hangars."

"Who am I to meet sir?" I asked, as he gave me the clipboard.

"Panache Fure Kalgi, a knight from the order. She's interested in the F-4EJ Kai and since we have the new Viper Zeros coming into service with us, I want you to show her around," he replied and walked back around his desk to sit down.

I was tasked with escort duty? Nothing's too big or small, I suppose…

"I'll gladly walk her around sir," I said.

"Dismissed," he grunted, glancing at the small photo before going back to his paperwork.

I snapped a salute, turning around on my heel and walked out after my teammates. Instantly after the door closed, I felt arms around my neck. I glanced left to see a smaller Sanada and the heavier Ige hanging their arms around my neck in an attempt to look at the clipboard. Grunting, I flipped through to find a picture of the knight I was to escort. A tomboyish silver haired maiden stared back at me, with captivating jade eyes piercing through the photo attached to the papers. Instead of the full plate armor that the girl in Kungen's photo, she wore a green dress. There was giggling from Sanada. He seemed genuinely excited.

"Wow Captain you're so lucky!" he exclaimed, "I would do anything to meet her."

"A fine lady for a fine man sir," Ige nodded with approval.

Sergeant Sanada Koichi was two heads shorter, slender would be the perfect word to describe the baby faced Japanese boy who had just turned twenty years old. Sanada and Ishihara enlisted together and came from the 1st Airborne Unit the very unit that Kungen commanded in the Special Task Force. Both had their Ranger wings. Sergeant First Ige Sadanobu on the other hand was also Ranger qualified but was much larger than I. His muscles were impressive, bulky enough to even compare to a muscle building competitor. Not only was he bulky but being from the Special Boarding Unit, Ige was very adept to water. Most people would assume the ox like man would sink. Instead, Ige was faster, much faster than any soldier I had ever seen. It was like he sliced through the water as he swam and he was able to remain underwater for an inhuman amount of time. It only served him right that he belonged to the Special Boarding Unit.

"Stop bothering the Captain Sanada, he's an officer not a fellow NCO. Even then its disrespectful to elders," Ishihara berated coldly.

"Come on Ishihara cheer up!" Sanada said, using his thumbs up move the corners of Ishihara's forever frowning face.

"Ishihara's right," Ikeda chimed in as he walked away hands in his pockets, "if you want to do it, do it in the barracks when people aren't watching."

Sergeant Ishihara Kunimichi was Sanada's polar opposite. Taller and heavily built, Ishihara was the pessimist of the two and as equally cynical as Sawada was cheerful. He came from the same unit as Sawada from the 1st Airborne Unit with the two both being childhood friends. 2nd Lieutenant Ikeda Hachemon was the definition of a model, women would soon over him with his short cut hair spiked and angular face. He wasn't too bullish like the rest of us and was the right proportion to become a model. He had enlisted in the military because his father had forced him to, born to a prestigious family rooted in the military, Ikeda was the heir of a multi-billion-dollar company and his resume would have to reflect the same. Ikeda's father was a General and at one time commanded all of the Japanese Ground Defense Force before retiring into a life of business. Ikeda's equally serious about following the rules as he is strict.

"I'm off to receive our orders," I said, pushing Ige's and Sanada's arm off my neck, "anyone want to come with?"

"Nah, I'm going to go off to the bar with Ishihara," Sanada said waving his hand in front of his face, "we're going to go off and see what types of humanoids we can find. Especially if they have fluffy ears like rabbits or cats."

I could have sworn I saw drool drip out from the corner of Sanada's mouth as he wiped his mouth with his bare forearm.

"Pervert," Ishihara swiftly said, despite being dragged by his friend towards the door.

"I'm going to Ishihara and Sanada. The Special Region's amazing! So many references," Sawada replied, following the two boys out of the door with his sketch book.

"I'll come with," Okuda muttered with a shrug, "I have nothing else to do for the day anyways."

Sergeant First Class Sawada Sorai hailed from the Western Army Infantry Regiment. Similar to the United States Marine Force Reconnaissance, the WAIR specialized in reconnaissance and amphibious assault. Sawada was just shorter than I am. Tall and gangly, he surprised people by his endurance and durability while he was as strong as the average soldier. Sawada was a talented marksman and being a former figma sculpture, he always carried a sketchbook around to come up with new ideas for posable action figures. A deft finger made him an excellent marksman and his artistic background made him extremely valuable while doing reconissance. Master Sergeant Okuda Hirokumi was heavily built like most of his team members and just as tall as I was. He served in the same Special Forces Group Company as I did although he was in a different platoon. At thirty-two years old he was one of the three oldest members of the group. Okuda served with 4th Platoon specializing in Urban Warfare, he had deployed to Afghanistan and Africa in support of coalition forces. Okuda and I met while on base during our off-time. While talking about current events, television series and philosophical ideas, the two of us hit it off. I had been friends with Okuda for four years compared to the others.

"I hope this is going to be an easy tour," yawned Okuda, "I'm getting tired off this stuff. Even my wife is complaining in my ear to get out and get a better paying job."

"I thought the hazard pay and the salary was enough for you?" I asked running my hand through the long beard, wondering if I should shave it off.

"My daughter's turning ten, Ryu. And my son's entering kindergarten, money's going to get tight if my wife doesn't start working. But that's another thought for another time. Just being here makes me…" Okuda muttered inhaling the air.

We stopped in front of a door with a small sign post reading – communications as I asked filling in the words for him with a small chuckle, "energized?"

"Yeah," Okuda replied with an energetic nod as I slid the door open, "you could say that."

The communications room wasn't big, it was dominated by at most six people with all sorts of computer screens and radio racks. Charts of radio frequencies and topological maps hung on the walls. It was half female and half male staff working the radios. What I didn't anticipate was the sounds going on the background that exploded out when I opened the door. Beeps, buzzes and squawks were heard as the radio transmitted, received and relayed information. All of the soldiers were speaking on the radio. I spotted the two remaining members of my team huddled in a corner with a headset on their heads and the responsible radio operator at least two meters away from them.

Inspector Kazuki Shinamoto and Police Sergeant Akagi Tanaka were recruited from the Special Assault Team. Both were police with the same goal but very different expertise. Akagi was a police sniper and at twenty-four years old, the youngest police sniper in the entire Special Assault Team. He was part of Japan's Olympic marksman team before the metropolitan police poached him away. Standoffish and reserved, Tanaka barely spoke to anyone even Inspector Kazuki. Kazuki, like Akagi, was recruited from the Special Assault Team but his purpose was very different. Trained as an assaulter, Kazuki was also a negotiator. He was the most successful negotiator in all of Special Assault Team and the Japanese metropolitan police. With a ninety percent success rate, he was able to talk down suicidal and irrational criminals. His mouth was his greatest weapon and he wasn't afraid of using outside of operations either. Kazuki often spouts wisdom in the most unwise moments. Kazuki gave us a nod as we entered while Akagi just stared at us with his gunmetal eyes.

I stood behind a female radio operator, unsure what to do and tapped on her shoulder.

She swung around her brown eyes scanning up and down the both of us while she spoke on the radio. She held up a finger to finish her sentence before lowering the radiophone and asking, "yes?"

"We're looking for 2nd Lieutenant Hasegawa Morie," I replied quickly, trying not to bother her for too long.

"Ah yes," she said scatterbrained before looking at her colleague, "Yumi! Cover for me will you!"

"Hai, hai!" her friend said from across the table, peering just over the radio stacks.

"And you are?" she asked, pulling out yet another clipboard.

"Captain Anderson Ryu, Susanowo," I said briefly.

"Ah yes, Anderson-san," she replied nonchalantly, "this is the frequencies you will use to communicate with me and other teams operating in the area. I'll be transferred out of the communications room to administration tomorrow, today's actually my last day. But your assignment for tomorrow will be the escort of the second medical team under the command of Staff Sergeant Kurokawa Mari to a neighboring village to provide medical care. It's to get you acclimated to the Special Region but I know you're much more capable. But that's all for tomorrow, the next two days of that will be your day off and my day off so don't come to see me until Friday since I won't be in my room or in my post. I'll be drinking until the holiday ends!"

"Err," I groaned looking at the clipboard for information, "is –"

I was cut off as she suddenly turned around and picked up the radiophone.

"That all…?" my words faded into noise of the radio operators speaking.

I walked out of the room confused, nodding farewell to the two men before sliding the door closed.

"What the hell was that?" I asked, looking at my wristwatch.

"Strange girl," Okuda shrugged his eyes glanced at the hallway before widening, "otouto (younger brother)!"

"Aniki (older brother)?" asked a voice from behind me.

Okuda rushed behind me. I watched him wrap his arms around a younger man two heads shorter than him, lifting the man off of his feet. He was gangly with the same haircut we all wore underneath a combat cap. He was carrying files as his brother hugged him. I stood puzzled as Okuda hung an arm around his neck and turned to me with a large smile on his face.

"Captain," he said patting his brother on the shoulder, "this is my younger brother Makoto. He enlisted in the same time as I did but was shuffled off to administration instead of infantry. I knew he was here in the Special Region but I didn't know he was working at headquarters! Makoto, this is my unit leader, Captain Anderson Ryu."

"Sir!" he said snapping a sloppy salute, his big brother's arm getting in the way.

"At ease," I replied with a lazy salute, "what a surprise, huh?"

"Yeah," Makoto muttered, less than ecstatic.

"I'll leave you two to catch up. I have to go find the VIP," I said pointing the file and waving farewell to Okuda.

"See you at the mess Ryu!" Okuda called after me as I waved him and okay while I was walking away.

I took a look again at the clipboard. It didn't say where to meet Panache but it did say fixed wing aviation facility which was basically the whole perimeter of the airstrip. Since I was going outside the wiring, I went back into the barracks to gear up in my combat uniform. Our equipment was a little different from normal infantry. I shrugged off the Type III Flecktran camouflage and donned a breathable multicam combat shirt and trousers. Pulling on an Eagle Industries CIRAS, I could feel my body quickly being pressed down on by the heavy vest. Just the vest alone was enough to weigh five kilograms with ammunition and assorted pouches. Two large bulletproof weights were snugly fit inside spaces in my front and back with additional two smaller SAPI plates shielding my sides, the CIRAS's weight soared to ten kilograms. I grabbed my rifle and helmet before exiting out the door. Unlike the Howa Type 64 used by the standard infantry and most of the airborne unit, in my hands were a Belgian FN Mark 17 Mod 0 SCAR-H favored by the American Special Forces teams. In addition to the SCAR, we carried the USP pistol as a sidearm and a katana for when we no longer had ammunition.

Extensive training for a year and a half taught us all we needed to know about how to survive in the Special Region with reports from Recon Teams. We trained day in and day out in medieval combat, hand to hand combat, close quarter drills and spoke every single day in Imperial. While I was fluent in Imperial, I hadn't used it in several months prior to deployment and a language unpracticed is considered rusty. The SCAR-H had been my choice of weaponry ever since I entered the Special Forces Group and my father's when he was in the Marine Raiders. Carrying the SCAR-H was like carrying a piece of my father around with me, especially when it was the same weapon he used transferred from MARSOC to SFGp. I was glanced at strangely by passing personnel since I looked like anything but a Japanese soldier, but on the back of my helmet and shoulder sleeve Velcro patches were subdued Japanese flags in dark green and special forces group patches. Some glanced for a few seconds while others stared at me for a good while as I slowly strode towards the airstrip. At the MP checkpoint leading out of the star shaped base, they inspected my ID with scrutiny, eyes darting back and forth from my face to the ID card before handing it back to me.

I should really shave my beard, with it I looked American.

Walking on foot to the airstrip was a pain. Not only was it far, I had begun my trek in the summer noon. The airstrip was located far away from the main base itself to abate noise concerns it might cause to the residence located on the other side of Alnus. I grimaced as sweat started drip down my skin. It was uncomfortable and annoying but that was all it was. Grumbling, I swung the SCAR around to my back and stepped to the side of the road. I pulled out a pair of binoculars and peered through them. The airstrip was a standard facility with a newly constructed control tower with a radar dish spinning to detect airborne threats. In addition to the two hangars that were already there housing two F-4EJ Kai Phantoms, newly built hangars were open. Their doors were inviting the new Mitsubishi F-2Bs arriving from Japan. Two large trucks towed the multi-role jets towards their new homes with a team of aircraft maintainers ready to receive them. They were too far away for me to see their aircraft numbers.

I could feel a painful throbbing in my left leg.

A speck of brown and a glint of white caught my eye among the vast rippling green. On the perimeter just across from the fighter jets stood an armored frame. I could tell just from the solitary figure that it was the person I was looking for. Through gritted teeth, I stood up and walked through the pain. Time passed and the sun's gaze stopped sizzling my skin. A cool breeze passed, offering relief and solace during the long walk towards the airstrip. By the time I arrived at the perimeter, I could hear the dull hissing of the APU spooling up from the F-2B. The armored frame with short sliver watching the aircraft. The ground crew were starting up the first F-2B and was about to put the newly arrived multi-role jet through its paces. I switched my radio over to the control tower's frequency as I walked up to her.

She turned around startled as I said in Imperial, "beautiful."

Wait no, that came out wrong.

Her eyebrows furled, her pale skin become reddened.

"Sorry," I apologized and pointed to the aircraft, "beautiful vehicle isn't it?"

She nodded, her emerald eyes glaring at me.

"You are?" she asked.

"Captain Anderson Ryu, Special Task Force," I replied, "I'm the one who's going to accompany you on the tour of the aircraft."

"Panache Fure Kalgi, Rose-Order Knight," she introduced herself with a short bow.

"Ryu Two-Five," the radio suddenly sparked to life.

I suddenly moved towards her and twisted the ear cups outward.

"What are you –?" she exclaimed as I raised my finger to silence her.

"Listen, the fighter jets are talking to the tower," I explained, Panache was skeptical but crept closer towards the headset.

"Ryu Two-Five, Alnus ground, go ahead," replied the air traffic controller.

"Alnus ground, Ryu Two-Five, requesting ATC clearance to Sadera IFR flight level two eight zero," stated the pilot of the lead F-2B.

"Ryu Two-Five, clearance cleared to copy?"

"Ryu Two-Five go ahead."

"Ryu Two-Five cleared to Sadera via radar vectors maintain flight level two three zero expect two eight zero two then return to Alnus expect flight level two one zero for radar vectors squawk three four two five. Departing frequency channel four. After departure turn right heading zero two five, read back."

"Alnus ground, Ryu Two-Five, cleared Sadera via radar vectors maintain flight level two three zero expect two eight zero. Alnus expect flight level two one zero for radar vectors. Squawk three four two five, departing channel four after departure turn right heading zero two five," blurted the pilot in fast forward as he regurgitated the order.

"Ryu Two-Five read back correct."

"What was that?" she asked in Japanese, her eyes wide in excitement.

"The fighter jet is requesting for travel to the capital," I replied with a large smile, "he'll fly to the capital and then fly back. It's a test flight so to speak."

"Test flight…" she murmured, glancing back to the aircraft crew.

While we were listening to the pilot and the aircraft controller talked the Viper Zero's single engine had come to life. The distinctive whine of the engine could be heard from far behind while the crew chief squatted off to the aircraft's rear right elevator. With his right hand, index and middle finger pointing, he moved his hand left, right, up and down. The F-2B's control surfaces moved in unison, flaps, ailerons and elevators raised and lowered to test for full functionality. I pushed Panache towards the checkpoint, determined to get into the airstrip and watch the jet takeoff from closer. Panache was quite short. She stood two heads shorter than I did at the same height Sanada was. Her armor hugged her figure. Panache was slim and without her armor I bet she was even thinner. Her silver hair sparkled in the sunlight although it was her eyes which captivated me the most. Jade green eyes smiled at me even though she did not, glittering jewels that made lose myself in them. The two of us passed the checkpoint easily with the necessary paper work on the clipboard. It actually took them longer to inspect me than it did to inspect Panache in full armor. I was a soldier for the Japanese Self Defense Force for god's sake. Walking across the roads leading towards the hangar, I saw the three crew chiefs standing in front of the aircraft with their hands behind their backs. The preliminary flight control checks were done and the jet was ready to taxi to the runway. I paused, gesturing towards Panache with my right index finger to lean closer as I twisted out the ear cups once again.

"Ryu Two-Five," the pilot spoke.

"Ryu Two-Five, Alnus ground go ahead," replied the tower.

"Ryu Two-Five requesting taxi IFR to Sadera."

"Ryu Two-Five, taxi to holding point runway zero one. Wind is zero six zero at one zero, QNH two niner niner two, temperature two seven."

"Ryu Two-Five, taxi to holding point runway zero one. QNH two nine nine two, taxi via Alpha two."

"Ryu Two-Five contact Alnus Tower on channel four," replied the ground controller.

I watched as the crew chief started waving the aircraft forward, the roaring of the engine growing louder as it inched away from its protective shelter. We weren't far from the hangars as the F-2B started taxiing and turned left on the taxiways heading for the holding point. The pilot glanced left to see Panache and I. I raised my right arm, hand flat pumping the limb forward and backwards thrice. The pilot raised his right hand and did the same, returning my signal with a thumbs up.

"What was that?" Panache asked, curiosity in her eyes.

"It's a signal to the pilot," I explained, "for him to have a good flight."

"Really?" she asked, looking at the pilot and mirroring my signal in an imperfect manner.

But the pilot understood what she was trying to say, he saluted Panache which earned her a gleeful giggle.

We came to a stop beside the large hangar doors of the second F-2B to watch the first takeoff. Tower cleared Ryu Two-Five onto the runway. The blue multi-role jet lined up with marks on the tarmac and paused. His control surfaces rose and lowered quickly as the pilot did one last final inspection. Then there was a pause before the whining of the engine swiftly advancing to full power. A flame of orange and blue extended from the shimmering gunmetal exhaust petals. It was in afterburner. Raw fuel was being injected straight into the piping hot exhaust producing an explosion of power. The Viper Zero's nose dipped from the sudden intensity. Its nose brake was trying hard to hold the fighter in place before shuddering shook the aircraft as the pilot released the brakes. Like a speeding arrow, the F-2B thundered down the runway.

I saw the elevators twitch upwards very slightly.

The nose of the aircraft pitched up as water vapor formed on the wings rushing over like a wave of compressed white liquid. A mirage of hot air blew at the ground below from the hot exhaust, extending far behind the aircraft itself. Air speeding over the wings lifted the blue aircraft into the sky as the thunderous roar of the engine filled our ears. It zipped past us, pulling up and banking right to proceed on its flight plan. Every time I saw a jet take off, it was bittersweet. Even more so if it was an F-2B, a similar one that I used to fly. The rumbling roar could be heard in the air for seconds after the Viper Zero disappeared into the vast blue sky. Next to the hangars sat AH-1S Cobras and their newly transported brothers, the AH-64Ds in their tri-color camouflage paint scheme. Most of the AH-1Ss sat inside the base to escort outgoing transport helicopters. But these were different. Instead of the occasional rocket pod and gun pods, the ones sitting on the flight line fully armed in anti-tank equipment. Black hellfire missiles gleamed on their hardpoints and so did their fully loaded rocket pods.

I turned to enter the hangar and saw a familiar face.

"Kitsune!" exclaimed the pilot, "I haven't seen you in years!"

"Kenji," I said with a forced smile as he slammed into me with a fierce hug, "how are you?"

"I've been doing good, moved to flight lead since your um…accident," he said scratching his cheek, Kenji was my wingman during my time in the air self-defense force among a team of four pilots and weapon system officers.

"Well," I said through gritted teeth, "I'm here as an escort. Panache of the Rose-Order Knights wants to learn more about fighter jets. So I took her here."

"Oh! Really? What is it you want to know?" Kenji exclaimed excited to share his knowledge as Panache glanced at me with worry.

"Go on," I said with a forced smile and walked towards the hangar.

She started to conversed with Kenji with hesitation in her voice. I could tell that she was worried about me, feeling the strain between my former flight mate and myself. It was comforting but unnecessary. I approached the Viper Zero and found myself staring at the aircraft number. Staring back at me was aircraft number 611. I had flown with this aircraft for four years and it was still in the same state I left the unit in. The two tone dark blue and intermediate blue camouflage was filled with chips and scratches across the entire airframe. Just below the canopy my name was no longer there, instead it was Kenji's. I reached out my hand and pressed it against the cool skin of the aircraft. Smooth metal ran across warm flesh as I walked around the nose of the jet with tears slowly welling in my eyes. This was my passion for all my life until that fateful day when the accident took away my ability to fly. My hands followed the contour of the aircraft slowly brushing over the leading edge flaps then over the wingtips. Hot tears dripped down my cheeks as I remembered the time I fought against other opponents in simulated dogfights and own.

This machine…this jet was the entire reason I got my nickname – Kitsune.

We had dominated the skies outmaneuvering other aircraft and at other times outsmarting pilots with carefully laid plans and movement. She was no longer mine and it felt nostalgic just feeling her still metal skin on my own hands. I closed my eyes. I could still feel the reverberating metal against my digits while it flew. It was a gradual pulsing of the engine sucking air, burning fuel and propelling me above the clouds. Up, up and up the Viper Zero would carry me far above the clouds and into skies where few could experience the full pleasure of the vast empty expanse stretched endlessly above. A wave of elation passed over me as I could picture the sensation in my head. Even if 611 was someone else's now, I could still feel the intangible bond between man and machine. I hung my head down in embarrassment with a soft chuckle to console myself as I wiped away my tears, coughing to clear the lump in my throat.

That was another life.


	3. Chapter 2: Rising Up to the Occasion

Author's Note: Special thanks to Anime Borat for helping with the revision of the story chapters!

* * *

Chapter Two: Rising Up to the Occasion

 _Beep beep, beep beep, beep beep._

I grumbled, rolling over. My eyes cracked open to peer at the wrist watch strapped to my left forearm. 0230 Hours read the digital display. It was even before the crack of dawn. I silenced the alarm and turned over to stare at the empty white ceiling with a yawn. After the sentimental tour of the aircraft hangar I said my farewells to a reluctant Panache. Worry wrought her face as we parted. Despite her serious personality and boyish looks, Panache had a soft side to her. It felt nice to have someone else care for my well-being other than just parents. During the thirty-five years I had walked the Earth, I never had time to form a relationship. It was a constant battle to hone my skill and practice to achieve my single-minded goal of being a fighter pilot. Since that dream was pretty much gone, I had newfound time to do whatever I wanted. It was a bit intimidating to just sit still knowing full well that I didn't know what to do with my life. Still, it felt good to have someone that cared for me.

Scratching my beard, I jumped off the bed and started my morning routine.

Brushing my teeth while the warm water running over my hair and body, it didn't take long before I was out of the shower. Five minutes' tops, I had already shampooed, lathered and taken care of my hygienic needs. I grabbed an olive drab tee from the wardrobe and tossed it on followed by my plate carrier. A baseball cap and camouflage trousers finished off the outfit. Snatching my rifle from its rack bolted to the wall next to the door, I headed out to wrangle the troops. Just as I turned down the hallway, Okuda and Ige were already outside in the corridor. The two were dressed similar to me – battle casual, we called it. Ige gave me a relaxed morning greeting along with Okuda. I nodded, making eye contact with the two. No words needed to be exchanged as we made our ways silently out of the barracks. Nipping cold air welcomed us to the foreign evening. Even if it was a different world, the weather felt no different to Japan. Ige lifted his arms with a loud grunt, stretching. The Sergeant First Class had a black polymer weapon dangling from a sling by his side. Ige's weapon of choice was a Heckler & Koch G36K. Fitted with a grenade launcher and a dot sight for close combat, the shortened rifle looked like a toy in the hands of the heavily built soldier. Okuda wielded his weapon with confidence, the SCAR-H similar to my own except for the shortened barrel and foregrip instead of a grenade launcher. The larger bullet struck down targets faster, a theory he had tried and tested off the coast of Somalia.

The rest of the team was gathered at the blacked out mess hall benches.

Sanada lazed around, laying on his back and staring at the glittering stars above. His FN M249 stood on the table propped up by its bi-pod. Next to him was Ishihara. The Sergeant had his eyes closed, trying to catch whatever sleep he can after the ruckus the two of them and Sawada created. Sanada had gotten drunk and started picking fights with the locals before being promptly thrown out of the restaurant both by Myuute and a rabbit-warrior waitress by the name of Delilah. Sanada had gotten special treatment from the auxiliary officers, namely Myuute. From Sanada's side of the story he told me, he had stumbled and 'accidentally' placed his hands on her breasts. The military police told me that he had indeed stumbled but if his actions were intentional or not we would never know. Band-Aids covered the bridge of his nose while a light gash scabbed at the corner of his left lip. Ishihara's M249 was cradled between his arms. He treated his weapon like it was his lover, never leaving it if possible. It was always clean and ready to fire whenever the situation arises. Sawada on the other hand hugged his marksman rifle like a crutch. His face squished against the steel handguard, with his eyes closed. The Heckler and Koch G28 designated marksman rifle was on loan from the Bundeswehr or the Germany Army. It came with the stock furniture, Schmidt and Bender 3-20x50 scope, foregrip, bi-pod and the suppressor. Sawada had added his own little touch to the weapon with canted iron sights for close quarters combat.

All three were tired from their ordeal the night before.

Ikeda saluted me. He was rigid, ready to train. The strict Lieutenant wielded the traditional Howa Type 89-F with a folding stock. An ACOG (Advanced Combat Optical Gunsight) was mounted to the top of the rifle with a foregrip. I returned the salute to Ikeda. Next to him was Inspector Kazuki and Police Sergeant Akagi. Kazuki had his Colt M4A1 at the ready close to his chest. Fitted to his carbine was the standard dot sight and foregrip furniture. Strangely enough, he carried two side arms. The first was his revolver the New Nambu M60 which was standard police issue and an MP7A1 personal defense weapon. Akagi was standing in a darkened corner of the fenced area and away from the group. Aloof and taciturn, Akagi stood with his G28 DMR slung on his shoulder. Akagi opted for the red dot sight mounted on the top of the scope instead of Sawada's canted iron sights.

With the entire team there I announced our training schedule, "Right time is 0302. Sync watches in three…two…one…mark."

A series of beeps filled the silent night air.

"We'll begin with the familiarization of fauna and flora in the region, navigation and tracking until 0430," I started to explain as Sanada groaned.

"Tracking's so hard," he moaned.

Even though he complained and complain he did a lot of, Sanada still kept with the training.

"We'll wait for the 0500 wake up call. Then our usual live-fire drills will begin. You all know that sunrise is at 0604, we'll be using night vision goggles until then with infrared laser pointers to deconflict our lines of fire. When the sun is up, we'll resume normal operations. I've asked command to set up some targets for us and Lieutenant General Hazama has generously provided us with more than enough. We'll finish live-fire drills at 0900 hours to eat some breakfast before resuming with hand-to-hand and swordsmanship at 1000 hours. That will take us all the way to 1200 hours where we will have an hour and a half to gear up for today's mission," I paused before asking, "questions?"

There were none.

"Let's hop to it gentlemen," Okuda grunted, letting a loud grunt to energize himself for the day ahead.

Still morning air felt light in the darkened night. Pinpricked with white stars, the specks of light were completely different to the ones back in Japan. Strange formations seemed to dance ever so slightly in the alien sky. The team and I set out to learn how to navigate with this new set of constellations. Locals brought papers from their astronomers to the Special Task Force to aid them in traversing the new land and it didn't take long for the nine of us to relearn our skills which we had honed to a razor sharp knife before deploying. Tracking was a challenge. To add a whole new set of animals and plants to our already cramped brains was a daunting task. From Dragon to bovine-like animals used as cattle called Ma-Nuga we had to know what the smelled like, what their behavior was and how to track them while they moved. Manuals were given to us for study and just the unfamiliarity of mythological creatures roaming the land had us in slight shock. Not only were the creatures on land deadly, the monsters that lurked beneath the surface were even more so. AFO Susanowo hiked outside the wire until the base's entire star-shaped perimeter was visible. The taste of sweat fouled my lips as we paused to observe a group of herding Mu-Naga. My olive drab tee stuck to my skin, drenched in sweat as I peered through binoculars. A dozen of them were grazing on the grass in the moonlight. Their thick brown hair shimmering in the moon light just as a cold wind sliced through the air, rippling the grass. Trees formed a forest just to the left of them. A shadow cast from the clouds shrouded the forest. Ruffling from the branches of trees and the rustling of leaves drew both our and the Mu-Naga's attention. The bovine-like animals stopped grazing and stared intently into the oak-like trees. Loud howls chilled the air – wolves.

The herbivories turned to run as a pack of carnivorous canines shot out from the forest, snarling with dripping saliva. It happened as fast as they appeared. The wolves jumped on the back of the Mu-Naga, ripping into its thick brown fur and bathing the green grass full of red. A large hulking bull felled by a pack of half a dozen wolves while the others escaped. My team witnessed the kill in silence and waited for the canines to finish their food. An hour or so later, the wolves were gone and the carcass was left. We moved to where the herd used to be and prodded around. Impressions left deep in the dry ground, uneven grass and faint pungent odor was left behind among others. This was the world we now lived in, humans were no longer at the top of the food pyramid. We were prey to creatures much more dangerous. It was a concept that I kept close to heart throughout the entire operation. I decided to start trekking back, navigating by the stars towards the base. There was no GPS, no electronics to aid us in our journey back. It was the old nitty-gritty compass, map and stars. I had led us out into the wild and swapped with Ikeda as he tried to lead us back. Without a doubt in my mind, minutes later we were walking towards the outer perimeter of Alnus.

A large field had been constructed for the firing range used by tanks, artillery and even the jets to practice in. Hazama had placed steel targets across one quarter of the kilometer-long field to mimic a legion of the empire army. While we are no longer at war with the empire, it was a practice adopted by militaries on Falmart. Tactics varied from army to army and groups to groups but the core principle was the same. We arrived at the range after picking up a large crate filled with ammunition for training. It was so heavy, four of my men had to carried one crate to the range. We set out weapons down for a short break and began to load ammunition into extra magazines requisitioned to us upon arrival. In addition to the twelve magazines already stuffed into my overcrowded front and left thigh pouch, thirty-six more would be hand loaded and set on the table. Ishihara and Sanada were fortunate as their ammunition had already been belted together and all they had to do was pull out the long string of bullets and separate the links. We toiled for half an hour setting up for an exercise that would go on continuously until nine in the morning. There would be no rest nor reprieve. Each of us would be pushed beyond the point of exhaustion, we would have to endure and be more relentless than the enemy to win.

A sigh escaped my lips as I finished loading to take a look at the cluster of faceless metal targets.

They were randomly placed yet each one was in some sort of cluster. Some formed groups while others stood by themselves on empty ground. Due to safety concerns we wouldn't be engaging targets closer than fifteen meters since bullets can ricochet and fragment upon impact. Some of the patrols and military police rotating of their shift came to watch the firework spectacle that was about to unfold. The nine of us stood, weapons ready at the center twenty meters away from the field littered in metal slabs. We donned our lightweight helmets and swiveled the monocular night vision goggles over our undominant eyes. An eerie field of green flashed into my right eye. The previously dark grey targets were lit up in a pale white from the intensified light. A swift breeze nipped at our skin as whispers were heard behind us as a small crowd wondered what we were doing. I glanced back to see men, women and even the humanoids forming the auxiliary officers in anticipation. A crackle over the loud speaker woke the base. The familiar bugle that we heard each morning at exactly five in the morning during boot camp. Melodic notes of the reveille sounded over the loudspeakers to signal the start of the day. The first call. During the short wake up call, I switched on the infrared laser pointer attached to the SCAR's top rail and shifted my stance – feet slightly apart, right foot back and knees bent with my weapon in a low ready.

The final notes played as the silence once again reigned supreme for a split second.

I raised my rifle, instinctively exhaling to line up the center dot of the circular holographic reticle. The reddened dot swayed very slightly as it blurred in my greenish and dimmed vision. Both of my eyes were open and focused down range. A streak of bright light shot out from the small attachment at the top of my weapon's rail. Eight other rays painted the targets in bright illuminated light in my night vision goggle. My thumb flicked the fire selector from S (Safe) to 1 (Semi-Automatic) and in one smooth motion, my index finger squeezed the trigger.

 _Bang!_

The sound of expanding gasses and a bullet being ejected out the other end of the muzzle deafened my protected ears. A jarring kick slammed into my shoulder as the rifle recoiled. It was anticipated and expected, all part of the routine. The reticle rose towards the head of the steel target. My finger relaxed ever so slightly, allowing the trigger to move forward resetting with a faint click. I squeezed again. Another kick. A darkened powder struck the target's head, slamming into the metal plate with extreme force. I switched targets and aimed just further in. Adrenaline coursed through my body. This was the feeling I was addicted to, the excitement of firing my weapon. The rhythm that sets in after years of practice. Squeeze, squeeze, switch. Squeeze, squeeze, switch. A comforting habit that I knew I could count on if my life was ever in danger. Checking if there was another laser from my teammates, I continued firing and took a step forward. All of the action happened within milliseconds. Moving from one target to the next and constantly advancing, pressing our ensured advantage. My team fired and maneuvered with rehearsed efficiency. In a matter of minutes, more than half of the targets were covered in bullet strikes but we did not relent. My arms screamed in protest, burning with lactic acid. Keeping a five-kilogram rifle pointed on target and constantly moving was putting strain on my body. Susanowo continued, systematically firing until we were out of ammunition.

By the end of the drill, all of us were panting. We had covered just over one hundred meters in distance while constantly firing, reloading and moving. Streaks of pink and orange painted the brightening sky. Clouds lit from below in a warming glow chasing the night away. Our night vision goggles became useless. The bright eerie green was now nothing more than just pure blinding white light. We sat our weapons down at the table and swapped out our magazines. Men and women that were watching the drill started asking us questions. Chief among them were 'who are you guys?' Wearing no official uniform except for tees, tank tops, multicam slacks and BDUs, there was no reason for them not to question us. I spotted a feathered green head behind the crowd. Scornful brown eyes glistened with approval of our skills. It was Myuute, the siren was doing her rounds as auxiliary officers. She stared at Sanada, baffled how such a lecherous man wielded his weapon with such skill. I glanced at Sanada. The boy was oblivious to the siren's judgemental stare as he winced, sweat dripping on his unhealed gash on the lip. Myuute's eyes lowered towards the ground with her brows furled in thought. I watched her step forward, thinking twice about approaching him before turning around and heading back on her way. Rearmed, we went back to the range. As daylight flooded the firing range in color we shifted from fire and maneuver drills to marksmanship. Akagi and Sawada focused on targets beyond four hundred meters while the rest of the group opened fire on targets below that range. The day wore on as the sun rose into the sky. At the end of our exercise, no steel target was without a bullet mark, scratch or strike. We retreated back within the base walls after picking up thousands of our spent shell casings and moved to the open-air gym.

Hand to hand combat was practiced and rehearsed. Akido, Judo, Karate, Muay Thai, you name it, we trained on it against armed and unarmed opponents of all shapes and sizes with props. In addition to combat knives, we were issued with expertly made katanas. They were meant for last-ditch combat when our ammunition had been expended. While not as strong as the standard European longsword, they were weapons of finesse. Bruises were had and cuts happened. It was all part of the training. Lunch after a long morning was the best reward after we had showered and changed into operation gear in full multicam BDUs. Like any base, there was a long line at lunch time as soldiers gathered to eat. It was a simple meal despite the fact that we had asked for three times the usual amount. After all, we trained much harder and at a much faster pace than normal troops. With the nine of us sitting down at a free table by the corner, we sat down, propped out weapons up by the wall and clapped our hands together to thank the cooks for the meal.

"Itadakimasu," we yelled in unison, bowing slightly.

We dug into the food. Short-grained rice and tonkatsu with some miso soup.

I cut up a piece of the battered pork, shoving it in my mouth and glanced at Sanada, "you should really go apologize to Myuute, Sanada."

"No way, I'd just get another talon to the face Captain," he said in between chewing down his meal and slurping the soup, "plus, I already apologized to her look where that got my face."

"You must do it in earnest Sanada-san. One's words must come from the heart. Apologize with courage for it is the way of Bushido," Kazuki said.

"Ha? Bushido? This isn't the Meiji period old man and you also stared at her breasts when we first met her! Why was I the one who got the claws to the face!" Sanada exclaimed, grains of rice spilling out from his mouth.

"I am an elder Sanada-san," Kazuki replied, sipping his warm green tea coolly, "and have embraced my inner man."

"Inner man? You mean being a pervert Kazuki-san?" Ishihara asked.

"Interpret it as you will," Kazuki said and continued to eat his meal.

I decided to change topics, "we'll be taking two Komatsu LAVs and two jeeps to a nearby town. Preferences?"

"Why don't we play Jaken pon for it?" suggested Sawada.

Rock paper scissors, a childish but effective way to determine who gets to ride in what.

"We've only got enough room for six in the LAVs with Sergeant First Class Kurokawa riding in the lead vehicle and Sergeant First Class Shino in the rear. So first three to lose gets put in the jeeps with the rest of the medical team, clear?" I asked finishing the last of my pork.

"Yosh!" Sawada yelled, fired up, "I'm definitely going to sit in the LAVs."

Even the reserved Akagi and strict Ikeda was playing the game as we stuck our hands in the middle.

It was a game we often played whenever a decision needed to be made.

"Saisho wa guu," I said as the eight pumped their fists, "jaken pon!"

I had stopped with a fist as did Ikeda Okuda and Ige all had their palms open while Kazuki, Sanada and Sawada played scissors. Being the team leader, I had beaten Kazuki, Sanada and Sawada sealing their fates.

"No!" Sanada howled I denial, "I was looking forward to sitting with Sergeant First Class Kurokawa!"

"Too bad Sanada, fate has decided that you won't," I laughed and picked up my tray.

We had finished lunch, our reprieve was full of laughter and joy unlike the rest of the day ahead. I had packed extra MREs into my pack and hydration just in case we had to stay for longer than we did and headed towards the motor pool. High metal walls surrounded the motor pool as vehicles of shapes and sizes were lined up in neat rows across both sides of the large area. The increase in investment in the region was evident here with new armored vehicles sitting next to older ones. Despite their age, the Mitsubishi Type 74 tank was a relic of the Cold War and was in reserve back in Japan. Built upon the different designs from different nations, the Type 74 proved ineffective in defeating the T-62 with its 105mm main gun. While ineffective in modern battles, the Type 74 was more than enough for most of the opposition faced in the Special Region. Sitting next to the Type 74 were its successors, the Type 10 Hitomaru main battle tank. Only eight were deployed to the Special Region and were commonly used by tank company commanders to coordinate during battles. In rare cases, the Type 10 was brought out to combat more of the dangerous fauna in the Special Region. A prime example of which is the flame dragon. Unlike the Type 74's 105mm, the Type's 10 120mm rifled gun was powerful enough to go toe to toe with modern battle tanks back on Earth.

I spotted a group of armed soldiers at the front of the motor pool entrance carrying boxes and crates painted with red crosses on their covers. The group was dressed in standard equipment, their Type IV camouflage and issued armored vest wielding the aged Howa Type 64 rifle. In the midst of the group stood a tall slender soldier with long flowing black hair draped over her right shoulder and ends tied with a blue bowtie. As we approached the group, I realized that the soldier was actually Staff Sergeant Kurokawa. I was shocked at her height since she stood eye to eye with me. At one hundred and ninety centimeters (six feet, two inches), I was already an outlier in the military. And here was Staff Sergeant Kurokawa, a fellow giant. Next to her was an average sized woman with a wide frame, with her black short hair let down. The two of them snapped a salute as their eyes brushed over the three starred, one stripe rank Velcro patch stuck to the center of my CIRAS vest. I gave them a lazy salute back and stopped short just a meter or so from them.

"You must be Medical Team Three," I said.

"Staff Sergeant Kurokawa Mari, Medical Team Three, reporting for duty," Kurokawa reported, her eyes smiling as I nodded.

"I'm Captain Anderson Ryu. Susanowo Special Forces Group. We're assigned to be you as your security detail while you do your medical duties," I replied, introducing my team to the soldiers.

Advanced Force Operations was a foreign concept to the Japanese military mainly taken from the United States Special Operations Command, introducing them as another branch of Special Forces Group was far easier.

"Eh Susanowo?" the short haired girl asked from behind Kurokawa, "I've never heard of that unit's name."

"Ah, we were created especially for deployment in the Special Region. Some of our mission objectives is classified though…" I said with an awkward laugh.

I watched the black haired woman nudging Kurokawa in the side. Kurokawa leaned down to listen to her whisper. My ears tickled trying to focus on their exchange.

"Ne ne, maybe Itami finally came through with his promise and decided to introduce me to his single Special Forces friends," she whispered, my keen ears barely picking up their conversation.

"That's rude Shino-san we just met them," Kurokawa shot back before turning back to me, "shall we get going?"

"I'll sign out for the vehicles while my men help you load your things," I replied.

While I signed out the vehicles for us at the motor pool's office, the men helped the medical team load their belongings and equipment onto the back of the HMV. Basic medical supplies like antibiotics, bandages and off the counter medicine was loaded onto the back of the vehicles. Most of it was used in disaster relief missions in which we as the Japanese Self Defense Force were now well versed in. I walked back to see most of the team mounted with the requisitioned vehicles parked down the center of the motor pool. Ishihara was at the wheel of the vehicle while Okuda manned the Sumitomo M2HB Browning heavy machine gun. A seat was left open for me next to the driver while Kurokawa and Ige sat in the rear passenger seats. I chuckled, opening the heavily armored door of the reconnaissance vehicle and clambered on. Ishihara never drove before he enlisted to the military. The twenty-year-old boy had only gotten his driver's license just two months before he joined up with the 1st Airborne Unit. I had taken the man to his driver's test and his instructor commented on his heavy handed handling of a civilian car. I couldn't blame him. Most of what Ishihara drove was vehicles weighing upwards of five tones. The closest thing he had driven prior to his test was the Mitsubishi HMV.

I ordered the vehicle convoy to depart.

The steady rumbling of the engine lulled me into a false sense of security. While the inside of the Komatsu LAV felt stuffy and hot, the weather outside was starting to chill. The summer heat was quickly starting to fade as the cool fall air snuck in. I pulled out my phone and portable speakers, setting it on the dashboard of the LAV. My finger tapped the touchscreen selecting the music for the short drive from Alnus to a neighboring village only two hours away by car. A light tune started to play from the speakers as the song 'I'm Your Baby' from the Gundam Thunderbolt Original Soundtrack started to play. The town of Flavia was southwest of Alnus towards the northwest, located near the coast of the Row stream. A messenger on horseback had ridden for a better half of the day to request help from Alnus. Humanitarian aid missions were always greenlit by command. The messenger's report had stated that some of the villagers had started to die from an unknown illness. With symptoms similar to the common cold and the dip in temperature, the medical team had deuced that the villagers had the flu. I continued to stare out the window of the LAV, amazed by the greenery of the new land. Vast rolling hills, open plains and dense forests were completely different from Japan or the United States. Much of the Earth has been built up for mankind to inhabit and wide open plains filled with healthy green grass was hard to come by. Birds happily flapped about in the sky and even deer were blissfully prancing beside the swiftly moving vehicle convoy. It was like a scene lifted out straight from a fantasy movie or anime.

I chuckled at the thought.

There was an uncomfortable silence that fell between the five of us while the tunes continued to joyfully play. Maybe it was the awkwardness of not knowing Kurokawa or the fact that she sat with three single men and she was able to stare at us and read us like a book. While acting lady-like, there was something that worked behind her blue eyes that sent chills shivering up my spine. It wasn't malicious, but it was the type of feeling you'd get from your girlfriend knowing you'd cheated on her but continued to act like nothing happened until one-day guilt would make you confess. Then she'd open a can of painful comments that just tore into your feelings and made your life feel like a meaningless existence. I had the feeling she was as sharped tongue as she was constantly smiling.

"Kurokawa-san," Ige said, the Special Boarding Unit Staff Sergeant was older than her yet he was still using a polite tone, "if I may ask, do the medical team work in other places?"

"Ah!" she exclaimed happy to explain, "we constantly travel out from Alnus…"

The conversation between the two of them slowly spread from just the two of them to include Okuda. I glanced at Ishihara every once in a while to make sure he was okay. The young man had his lips pressed into a thin line. He was concentrated on the empty roads that was infrequently filled with a traveling carriage or two going both ways. Despite him passing the driver's license test and being practiced at driving military vehicles, he was still very nervous behind the wheel. I could even say that he was more nervous driving a car than jumping out of the back of C-130s, which we frequently did every single week or two to practice parachute, high altitude-low opening and high altitude-high opening maneuvers. During the long drive, Kurokawa, Ige and Okuda continued to chat among each other. I had pulled out a small moleskine pocket book and space pen given to me by my father during the time I was in the hospital. The pocket book itself was already my third and the pen was refilled for the eighth time as I flipped the pages to the middle of the book. The memoir was written for my parents to recount my experiences after I was released from the hospital and returned to my military life. My mother, Akane Anderson, had kept the first two books in a small glass display and occasionally read them before going to bed with my now retired father. They had loved my writing and every time they had read my memoirs, they said that it made them feel like I was there reading the words on the paper to them. It brought a smile to my lips as I dragged the smooth ballpoint across the paper and began to write, documenting my adventures in the Special Region.

It wasn't long before we stopped in front of a gated community. Low rock walls marked the village's perimeter while a wooden gate was opened for us to enter. Most of the houses were made out wood with a single floor while the richer members of the town had houses made out of stone with multiple stories. A ring-like layout was selected with the lower class surrounding the outside with farmland while the middle-class had stone houses with multiple floors and the town center made out of shaped rock bricks that as the center of the entire town. We parked the vehicles in front of the town center and moved equipment inside the town center to form a make-shift clinic. Ige and Kazuki stayed inside the town the center to help out with the medical team sorting out the most ill from the least ill as well as running to and from the vehicles to fetch the much needed medicine. Ikeda and Okuda both walked around the perimeter of the village, patrolling to watch out for any bandits or dissidents still left over from when Pina became the empress of The Empire. Shino was paired up with Ishihara and walked the outer perimeter in addition to Ikeda and Okuda. Akagi and Sawada scaled the roofs of the two story stone houses built in the middle-class zone, scanning all of the horizon surrounding us split between the two marksman. I sat in the town center monitoring communication traffic from Alnus while continuing my memoir. My ears peaked when I overheard the village elders talking to one of the medical team members about an increasingly frequent bandit raids that their militia used to defend against. With most of their militia down to a variant of the cold flu, only twenty or so men could be mustered out of the one hundred strong fighting force. But the day passed uneventfully as the sun hung low over the horizon casting shadows over the houses and mountains. The sky became crimson as the medical team finished the last of their patients.

A swift and chilling breeze blew through the sparsely furnished town center meant for gathering people.

"Akagi," came the sudden but quiet transmission in my headset.

"Kitsune, send traffic," I replied quickly, hurriedly stuffing my pen and notebook the admin pouch on my chest.

If Akagi spoke, something bad was happening.

"Akagi, Kitsune, dust cloud over the horizon. Direction – west. Over," he spoked as I stood up.

"Is something wrong Captain?" Kurokawa asked from beside a patient, laying down on a stretcher.

"Maa," I said with uncertainty and grabbed my pack from the LAV on the way towards the edge of town, "it's probably nothing. I'll check it out and report back to you."

As I walked out to move towards the stone walls for a better view of the fields, Akagi's reports became more and more disturbing. At first, it was just a dust cloud rising from the ground. Now, it turned into something completely different.

"Akagi, Kitsune, dust cloud belongs to a group of horseback riders of unknown origin. Sliver glint confirms drawn swords. Over," reported Akagi.

"Kitsune to Akagi, Sawada, relocate positions closer towards the western edge of town. Maintain visual contact upon relocation how copy?" I asked.

"Sawada, solid copy. Relocating now," came Sawada's reply.

Akagi simply pressed his radio's transmit in reply, the signal squawked and buzzed in my ear. It was his usual one press for yes and two for no.

"Ikeda, Ishihara, Okuda, set-up a defensive perimeter on the western stone wall. Prepare for contact," I quickly ordered, breaking out into a sprint.

They all replied to the order on the radio. It took me a couple minutes to reach the outer town walls. Ikeda and Okuda where already there, their weapon's fore end resting on the stone walls. I slid into cover and pulled out my own binoculars. Peering through the glass, I saw at least fifty riders galloping at full tilt towards us. Their weapons were drawn and shining in the setting sun. It was hard to look at them for long with the sun against their backs. A reddish glow shrouded the riders in an eerie red aura. It didn't faze me but they were surely smart. Most looked far too slim to be warriors. Their silhouettes were thin and boney with some being significantly more muscled. I could make out men and women, elves, bunny-warriors, humans, dwarves they were all there. I brought my own rifle to bear and placed the SCAR-H against the stone wall, flicking the fire selector from S to 1. We needed more information before we opened fire.

"Kitsune to Kazuki and Ige, join us at the western wall as soon as possible!" I ordered and kept my eyes glued to the binoculars.

"Ige to Kitsune, Kazuki and I are on our way!" came the reply.

"Medical Team Three to Kitsune, what's the situation over," Kurokawa asked on the radio.

"We've got enemy on horseback, upwards count of fifty…no," I murmured lowering the magnification of the binoculars, "over one hundred riders with brandished weapons headed for the town. Medical Team Three, I need two of your soldiers to drive the Komatsu while the others stay back and guard the wounded and sick. Copy?"

"Medical Team Three copies," Kurokawa replied curtly.

"Susanowo, Alnus," I said, switching channels on my radio.

"Alnus, send traffic over," replied a radio operator.

"Alnus, Susanowo has spotted horseback riders to the west of Flavia. Numbers are upwards of one hundred at three kilometers. Requesting further instructions," I reported, glancing left at the noise of boots pounding into the ground.

It was Ishihara and Shino, the two of them were panting.

"Sorry, sorry," Shino said in between breaths, "we had to run from across town, sorry for being late."

I simply nodded to the two. Ishihara took position to my right with Shino, placing their rifles on the stone wall for support. I glanced at Ishihara to see him turn towards at Shino, smiling for the first time I had ever met the man. There was something going on and it wasn't my business to butt in. The bandits were closing in. At two and a half kilometers I could make out more detail. Most of the bandits were indeed slender but they were also extremely gaunt with some of them having their bones showing. Just lifting up the sword would have been impossible, but there was something in their eyes that drove them up to pick up the sword. It was the same look when I had gone overseas to serve as an anti-piracy team leader in Somalia. It was the same look when the pirates were arrested for trying to ransom transport cargo ships. Their eyes had the same look of desperation. It was probably pillage or die. It seemed like they weren't being fed or their village wasn't able to support them so they turned to pillaging and loot to survive. That was our enemy, doing what we in the civilized world considered to be a grave sin. Each had their own aspirations, dreams, likes and dislikes turned to savagery for their own survival.

After a brief silence, the radio squawked to life.

"Susanowo, Alnus, engage as you see fit," they said before I heard the words that made me smile, "do you need reinforcements?"

Maybe I was being cocky, overestimating the primitive bandits. But I replied confidently, "negative. Susanowo has it under control."

I trusted in my men's ability to perform. After all, we weren't normal grunts.

We were the Japanese Special Forces Group.

"Ha?" exclaimed Shino, "are you crazy? We'll be overrun in minutes! There's over hundreds of them."

Just before I replied, Ishihara shook his head, "Trust us. This is nothing."

Shino bit her lower lip, unable to accept what Ishihara just said. Ishihara smiled before patting her helmet despite being older than her. She casted her gaze down and looked down the iron sights of her Howa Type 64. Kazuki and Sanada came sprinting from behind me and took up positions further down from Okuda to my left. I heard the racking of Ishihara and Sanada's M249, a loud clack filled the tense air. With the team together, we waited in bated silence for the horsemen to get within firing range. Through the binoculars, the horses were getting closer and closer. Their malnourishment started to show in detail. Some were wearing nothing more than rags with their ribs showing through their skin. I could even see children on horseback rushing towards the town. Were they that desperate to even use their children to pillage the towns when death was a possibility?

"Akagi, Kitsune," said the soft-spoken marksman.

"Kitsune, go for message," I replied.

"Kitsune, range two three eight zero meters at the center of the formation. I have eyes on a possible leader, dressed in leather armor and fur pelts. Over," reported Akagi.

"Hrmm," I grunted, "listen up Susanowo. Aim for the horses and not the riders. If they continue to press forward and cross the two-hundred-meter line, you have permission to shoot to kill. Do not, I repeat, do not kill anyone unless they have crossed the two-hundred-meter line. Open fire on my shot."

"Copy," Sawada replied on the comms, he was up on the roof of a nearby house with Akagi.

I pulled out a megaphone from my pack and switched on the device. Holding it to my mouth, I yelled in Imperial, "Halt, if you do not stop we will open fire. I repeat, halt. If you do not stop we will open fire."

They continued to thunder towards us.

"I will warn you one last time, halt! If you do not stop, we will open fire!" I yelled into the megaphone, my voice echoed across the plains.

The bandits had made their choice. They were committed and so were we.

I pocketed the binoculars and shoved the megaphone back into my pack. Glancing down at the Mark 17, I pulled the charging handle back to see the glint of brass shining back at me. I let the bolt slam forward and back into its positioned and rested my cheek on the buttstock. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, I told myself. My heart started to race. There was electricity in the air. I could feel it just before the imminent clash. A pulse of pain shot through my body from my left leg. I bit down hard on my teeth, trying to suppress it. With each thundering gallop from the closing enemy, I felt my body get colder and colder. My stomach growled, I suddenly wanted to go to be bathroom. One of the special forces soldiers in the United States had told me this when we cross-trained. The moment an engagement kicks off or knowing that one was approaching, our bodies would shunt blood away from the surface, preparing to suck up the damage of combat explaining the paled complexion most of my men now had. And the feeling of wanting to go to the bathroom was the body's idea if we were to be injured in the abdomen. All of the toxic waste wouldn't spill out into the surrounding area to infect the wound.

Metal rattled behind me. Startled, I whipped my head back to see the local militia running towards us from inside the town. I raised my hand to stop them in their tracks. Puzzled, the two dozen or so men slowed and crouched behind us. I returned to the rushing formation of horses ahead and looked through the magnified holographic sight. The sun started to make my eyes blurry. I slipped on my sunglasses and focused on the first target. They were closing fast, close enough I could make out their facial features through the optics. Most of their faces were weathered and some were bruised. There were recent signs of abuse, bruises on their faces and still bleeding cuts with blood seeping from them. Blunt and chipped swords scratched from constant combat. Raising the rifle, I placed the center of the two dots at the head of the horse compensating for the increased range we were engaging the bandits at. I waited until the horse filled half of the illuminated circle then paused my breathing. My index finger curled against the cold metal trigger, then smoothly squeezed.

 _Bang!_

A flash of white obscured my vision for a split second. The rifle kicked against my shoulder as I watched bright red liquid explode from the horse's chest. It lost strength in its legs and buckled underneath its own weight. The rider was tossed free, his face surprised by the sudden noise and his horse collapsing from underneath him. His sword went flying forward and harmlessly stuck itself into the ground. A hail of gun fire erupted from beside me. Tracers filled the air from the M249s as more of the horses crumpled into the ground. Most of the steeds reared up in surprise and bucked its rider's off in fear. A wall of lead was slung forward eviscerating the dozens of horses within the first few seconds. A pair of zip cracks from overhead was Akagi and Sawada. I watched as two horses snapped their heads back with inhuman speed, stumbling backwards from the force of the strike. I exhaled, releasing the trigger slightly to reset the firing mechanism and squeezed again. This time sound of gunfire seemed to disappear from my ears. I could no longer hear the loud bang of rifle yet the flash of the muzzle brake was still clear in my optic and so was the evident kick from the SCAR itself. Auditory exclusion, just like a lion's roar is a stunning event, a lion doesn't hear its own roar and a dog doesn't hear its own bark, my ears had shut down. The explosion of gunpowder in the chamber of our rifle was our roar. I continued to fire, squeezing the trigger until the rifle kicked. Horses continued to drop and the riders continued to be dismounted. Then, in the midst of combat, I heard a clear and distinct click. I turned the rifle over to see the chamber wide open with smoke rising from the gaping hole.

I was empty.

"Reloading!" I screamed, pressing down hard on the magazine release and rotated the rifle left.

Through my peripheral vision I saw the magazine kick clear of the rifle as I slammed a fresh one into the Mark 17 with practiced precision. My breathing slowed, yet I didn't experience a loss of breath. The horses and bandits moved as if they were underwater. I had experienced this slow-motion of time many times during combat. It was like a moment of clarity had hit me in the face like a bucket of cold water. I became intensely aware of everything happening on the battlefield. From the collapsing horses to a catgirl pushing herself off the ground with her sword in hand. By the time my second magazine had been expended, more than half of the enemy forces had been dismounted. The flat grass covered ground was now bathed in red blood and horse corpses. I had locked eyes with the man Akagi had reported to be the leader. His eyes widened after four of the horses in front of him were neutralized, falling to the ground lifelessly did he realize what had really happened. The fur covered man pulled the reins of his horse, turning around to flee.

"Akagi, Sawada!" I screamed into the radio, "target three hundred meters on horseback! Fur covered man on the black horse!"

"Eyes on," breathed Akagi.

"Neutralize the horse, now!" I yelled, hearing a pair of cracks nearly undistinguishable from each other overhead.

One of the bullets severed the horse's rear left leg, blood spewing out like a waterfall while the other pierced its rear hump. The horse collapsed into the ground and let out a neigh of agonizing pain. I looked through the scope to see the man pinned by the fallen horse. He desperately tried to pushed himself out from underneath. Erratic, he raised his sword and stabbed into the injured beast, trying to cut his way out from below. The bandits that were thrown free were now up and was limping towards the town, their swords barely raised. Some didn't even get up while others crawled desperately. Those that were still able to walk, stumbled forwards from exhaustion. They were in really bad shape. Behind us, the militia were stunned. They had heard of the firepower that we had packed but didn't experience it first-hand until the engagement. Their mouths were wide open and gaping.

"Medical-3!" I yelled into the radio, "surround the ones trying to escape!"

"Roger!" came the reply as I stood up from behind the stone wall and rushed forward.

"Let's go! Disarm them!" I yelled to both the militia and my men.

I ran towards the stumbling bandits. My legs burned and my left leg burst into pain. The injury flared up everyone and then like a phantom pain to remind me that it was still there. The bone itself was weakened but had healed strong enough for me to run and carry the weight necessary to do my duty. I approached the first bandit, a male human that was gaunt and spindly. He raised his sword to strike me but was quickly met with a forceful kick to the side. I could hear his ribs crack under the force of the strike. He fell to the ground, unmoving. I stared at him as he panted. Green eyes lucidly looked up towards me. The man tried to raise his sword but it fell before he had even lifted half way. Was this a joke? Sending out people who could barely even fight to pillage a village. The rumbling signaled the arrival of the LAVs as they circled the battlefield of dead horses and weakened riders. On my orders, the militia men helped me and my men tie up the bandits while Shino tended to the leader of the group. I watched her stand over the dead horse while Ishihara watched over her with no emotion. She pulled her combat gloves tight against hand and slammed her fist into the bandit leader's face with a satisfying thud. Blood trickled down his lip as he was knocked out cold. I shivered, she was sadistic alright. There were a couple of things that I feared more than dying and a woman scorned was definitely on the list. I couldn't even being to imagine what Shino would be like angry if she was able to knock out a man with one punch. Especially a man almost twice her size.

We had rounded up the two hundred or so bandits and placed them in the center of town. Able bodied villagers took up arms alongside the militiamen to watch over the prisoners while Shino dragged the bandit leader into the town center. Kurokawa and her team was busy tending to the wounded. Many of them were hurt during the battle from horses falling on them or from being trampled after they were thrown from their horses. There were also injuries from small arms fire, bullets penetrating the horses thick meat and flying into them. A small number lay dead next to their horse's neck snapped, spine broken from a mixture of being thrown of their horses and some killed after a horse flattened their skull with its hooves. I was furious that there were children involved and my hate was rightfully directed towards the bandit leader but he was tight lipped. According to the rules, we weren't allowed to torture prisoners for information. So we opted to take him back to Alnus for interrogation. We played another round of rock paper scissors and Sanada ended up losing again. As the bandit leader was being taken away, one of the older but well fed men offered to give us information. The majority of the bandits weren't actually bandits but were slaves. Like carrot and stick, they were forced to pillage for food. They would raze the village and take more prisoners as slaves and the process would go on and on while the slaves got hungrier and the bandits got richer. All of them came far from the southwest, plunder as they went. Their force had split into two when one of the leaders got disenchanted with his boss and left with his own group of slaves. Apparently, the bandit leader we had captured commanded the respect of many and many of his lieutenants were sitting side by side with the slaves. Their past settlement held numerous slaves, far too many for him to count.

Initially, the town elders didn't want to take responsibility for the prisoners. After much negotiation between Kazuki, Kurokawa and the elders, I didn't want to get involved since negotiations was never one of my strong suits, the town decided that they would be able to give jobs and food to the slaves provided they guarded the town and worked the fields. The town would shelter the hundred and fifty at most with support from the JSDF. The other fifty would be sent back to Alnus and into the refugee camps and towns the fortress had offered. I had to massage my temples when I heard that fifty would have to be brought back. While I had anticipated the outcome, I would have to come like Itami. I was garrisoned at Narashino along with Okuda and had crossed path with the lieutenant multiple times. We were on friendly terms with Itami unlike the rest of the garrison who deemed him to be a defect from the selection system. He was adept at running away from danger that was for sure. I had gotten in trouble and done my time in the stead of the lieutenant. Itami was watching an anime that were littered with tons of fan service as I sat beside him. When I turned to go talk to Itami about the cute characters, he was gone and then a knock on the door. It was our platoon sergeant. He got extremely angry that I was watching under aged children flaunt their panties on a computer screen and sentenced me to two weeks of menial duty. That was days before the battle of Ginza. We never had a chance to meet since then. When Itami had come back from the gate and was summoned in front of the Diet, we were overseas with the Navy SEALs training in maritime warfare and on the day they went back, we were traveling to Camp Pendleton for additional amphibious assault and reconnaissance training.

It seemed that our paths would not intertwine and maybe that was for the best.


	4. Chapter 3: Reassignment

Chapter 3: Reassignment

My stomach was being pulled down towards the seat, the sudden sensation of being pushed down before everything returned to normal. I was sitting down in a familiar confined space that I instantly recognized to be the cockpit of my F-2B. My eyes snapped to the right of the HUD at the altitude tape. Green numbers ticked up slowly reading – 25M. I was only twenty-five meters off the ground? The shroud around my vision lifted to reveal flat pains of grass with asphalt poured over to form the taxiways and runways of Misawa Air Base. Just behind the chain link fences and walls of the base were civilian houses stretching as far as the eye could see. Looking onto the canopy frame in front of me and into the mirrors, I could see hills and forests that were hard to find in Tokyo. Lush green farmland filled the reflective surface behind me. I pulled the stick back. An immense weight pushed down on my body. I could feel the strain of the wind against the aircraft's metal as condensed clouds of water vapor formed on the sides of the aircraft and the front of the wings. My muscles struggled to even look up under the high gravity. The flight path angle lines flickered, reversing and jittering on the HUD as I was pushed firmly to the back of my seat. Blue enveloped the entire front of my aircraft. Clouds floated gracefully towards me as own breathing was loud in the helmet. I pressed my hand against the canopy and turned around to see the ground behind me.

Like I rocket, I was soaring towards the heavens.

"Keep going!" I heard a familiar voice in my helmet. "Push! Push the envelope, venture into the unknown!"

"Dad?" I asked as a helmeted head from the rear seat leaned over.

"You can do it son."

My eyes shot open.

It was another dream. This time, my left leg wasn't pulsing madly. I yawned and rolled over to see red lights flashing from the window, sweeping unnervingly like a search light over and over my room. Had I missed a drill or was I in too deep of a sleep when an attack happened on base? Surely a klaxon would have woken me up. I pushed myself out of bed. Grabbing my rifle, I didn't bother to get dressed and walked out in boxers, a tank top and sandals. The loud slap of the rubber soles against the concrete echoed in the halls as I yawned once more, shaking my head to rid myself of sleep. Ten days has passed since the small skirmish at Flavia. Well, I wouldn't even call it a skirmish, it was a one-sided battle resulting in a complete win for the village and the JSDF. Many of the lieutenants captured from the bandit raid had been interrogated and released to the Empire for prosecution. The leader of the group was kept in military jail until General Hazama was satisfied on how to act on the intelligence. He had sent the diplomatic team to bring up the matter to Empress Pina during their next meeting. Four days had passed since that meeting had finished and silence was their answer. No matter, I'd just stick to pulling the trigger and executing missions that Kungen assigned to me. Although, Major Higaki from the 1st Combat Unit had given me an earful after bringing more refugees to an already crowded town. For once I was glad to have my sunglasses on then, he was in charge of developing and maintaining the town. All of it was because Itami was the first one to bring refugees from the Special Region and for his subordinate's honorable decision, he was to oversee the town in addition to his duties.

"Ohayou Captain Anderson," saluted a soldier with a military police arm band.

"Naoki?" I said in slight surprise, "you're on the night shift again? Wasn't yesterday supposed to be your last before you rotated to the day shift?"

"Yes Captain, yesterday was supposed to be my last day on the night shift," grunted the younger man, "until Sumida fell ill. She had some severe menstrual cramps and had to take sick leave. And now I'm stuck making my rounds again. At least, there's something for me to watch."

"That connected to the flashing lights?" I asked.

"Yeah, the second batch of the F-2Bs are coming to get stationed at the air field. I've heard that they're getting ready to move the Ashigara to the new dock at Forward Operating Base Rho they had built a couple months back since the new gate has opened up," Naoki replied with a tried yawn, "there's a transport truck headed to Rho in a couple minutes if you want to go and take a look."

"Actually, I wouldn't mind taking you up on that offer. I'd love to see the ship coming in from Japan," I groaned, giving Naoki a pat on the shoulder, "have a good night Naoki."

"Thank you sir," he replied, snapping a salute.

I sauntered around the base, finding a supply convoy about to head towards the Rho river. After I had grabbed my protective gear, I climbed onto the vehicles with a couple of soldiers jammed pack with supplies. While the Maritime Defense Force had brought people through a newly materialized Gate, there was not enough manpower to defend it. A small detachment of the WAIR had arrived at the river to help safeguard the area while the engineers from the MSDF built up the docks and facilities required to shelter the ships. Fifty of the seven hundred strong soldiers from the Western Army Infantry Regiment were assigned to the 5th Combat Unit as base defense. It had taken months for the Japanese military to build the base. Negotiations with the empress and the coordination of forces to pass through the enormous Gate located a couple kilometers off the coast of Shikoku had split the Japanese Self Defense forces between the protection of the Ginza gate and the now dubbed Shikoku gate. A large oil rig like platform was ordered to be constructed the massive structure with blast doors protecting the front of the pantheon-like building, barring anyone from entry. The loud screech of the brakes signaled that we were at the Rho river. I stepped off the truck, helping the soldiers offload supplies before turning to glance at the forward operating base. Large mountains to the east jutted out from the Earth, towering into the sky with a jagged ridgeline with wide clear plains to the west. In front of me was a basic base, temporary tents built up to house soldiers while steel warehouses contained ammunition, maintenance parts and food supplies. A similar three storied command post built out of concrete sat in the off towards the right side of the base with a large wall separating the naval base from the rest of the lawless land. Red strobe lights lit up a massive structure sitting slightly submerged in the middle of the river. Like a Torii gate in the inland lake of Hiroshima, it was the only immobile structure sitting eerily from the center of the stream shrouded in darkness and lit up by the red strobing lights. Suddenly, a loud klaxon wailed twice as the gate was illuminated by flood lights installed on a metal assembly over the gate itself.

"JS Ashigara, DDG-178 arriving from Japan. JS Ashigara DDG-178, arriving from Japan," announced the loud speakers on the base.

A loud clunk sounded as the gates slowly slid backwards. I watched the WAIR troops quickly scramble into defensive formations, manning machine gun posts and watch towers. The Asagiri was in port, ropes extending from her hull down to the concrete walkway. Waves from the river calmly brushed against the river side. There was a moment of silence as I walked into the base with the soldiers, once again the MP took a little bit too long to check my identity before allow me through. Silence ruled the base with the constant rumbling of the generators loud in our ears. Then, it happened. A flash of blue light and the familiar pointed bow of a ship slowly exiting the structure. The waves started crashing into the sides, not from the ship's sudden displacement into the water but from a burst of energy that seemed to accompany the gate when the Ashigara arrived. A cold wind, chilling as the winter slammed into us. Gunmetal steel was matted in the night sky as the Ashigara arrived in full, escaping the large flood lights bathing the water in a white glow. The Ashigara started turning starboards, heading for the dock. Another loud clank signaled that the blast doors were closing. As per standard operating procedure, the lights immediately extinguished and the red strobes fell dark. The Ashigara was pulled in by a tug boat to dock and without much fanfare, a gangway was connected to the ship and within a few dozen minutes the crew climbed down with fresh supplies, ammunition and other packages from home. One of the officers stepped down from the gangway and started making his way towards me.

A smile started to form on my face.

"Ryu!" yelled the older man in joy, "you bastard, get over here!"

He pulled me into a tight embrace.

"Nice to see a familiar face Nakata, I haven't seen you in what, two years since Somalia?" I asked taking a look at the aged man, "it looks like you've aged another five years."

"Yeah, I've been bumped up to Lieutenant Commander and transferred from the Yudachi to the Ashigara as Operations Officer. Cool right, just look at my new stripes," boasted Nakata.

"Stop showing off, jerk," I laughed, giving him a light tap on the shoulder, "small world huh?"

"Yeah small world. When I heard that we'd have a special security team assigned to us I'd was more than surprised to see your ugly name as team leader," Nakata replied with a hearty laugh, "to be honest I'm just glad to see your name on the list. You did fine work in Somalia."

"Anyways, it's good to see you old man, but I've got to get back to Alnus," I said with a sigh and a groan, "I've got a day of helping with further construction efforts and washing the tanks that just go back from the field. Got to help out with the menial duties."

"Geeze, I'm just two years older than you," Lieutenant Commander Nakata said with a snort, waving me farewell.

When I arrived back at the barracks the day was just starting. Morning reveille had just been played while the soldiers were doing their morning duties. Training consumed the first half of the day for Susanowo. More rounds were expended on targets, continued map reading to memorize the local area and land beyond along with a dip in the Rho river to refresh our water skills in full kit. Unlike some of the Special forces squads in the region, we were without tasking for a few days and were assigned to duties around the base. Our versatility was our ultimate downfall. From vehicle maintenance to administration work and military police duties, we were assigned to all of them. Where the Colonel felt we were needed, we were assigned. After training, Susanowo was doing maintenance on Type 10s returning from the outside firing range. Tracks were muddied and filled with dirt while its entire hull was caked in a thick layer of dust. I grimaced with a water hose in one hand and a sponge in the other. Sanada and Sawada moaned about the work, their audible whining heard throughout the entire time we cleaned. I scrubbed the entire hull clean with Okuda and Ige while Ikeda, Kazuki and Akagi worked on the tank beside me. The two other tanks, part of the platoon, were cleaned by the privates over the watchful eye of a Sergeant Major. It took a better part of the day to completely finish cleaning the armored vehicles. The sun was starting to set when we had finished and retreated back to our quarters.

Huddled in the common room, all nine of us were splayed out inside. Sofa, chairs, tables or even the ground, our exhaustion knew no bounds as we laid on top of it.

"What a pain," groaned Sanada from on top of the communal table, "we've done nothing but help out since we came back to base since Flavia."

"It's probably Major Higaki who assigned us these duties since the Captain decided to bring them back," grunted Ikeda with pain as he rolled over on the sofa.

"Itai, itai, itai," I murmured feeling a pulsing pain from my back as I flexed my back against the cool ground, "all of you would have done the same thing, I know it."

There was a silence before the entire team collectively murmured, "yeah…"

It was a sad sight.

A group of special forces soldiers that traveled to train across the world, brought down by days of soul-rending basic tasks. We had slept in jungles, stayed up in the forests for multiple days with minimal sleep and lived off of nothing but MREs for weeks, but cleaning vehicles and helping the ongoing construction of the base was enough to push us into submission. It was the sudden change in pace that caught us off guard. Back on Earth it was training for reconnaissance, high-value target extraction and elimination among other things, then to come here at the flick of a switch go back to a normal infantry unit garrisoned on base doing regular chores. This was the reality of it all. Training, chores, eating a meal and then sleep before waking up to do it all over again.

There was a knock on the door.

It swung open to reveal Lieutenant Morie.

Her brown eyes glossed over upon entering the room and scanning the surroundings with a confused, "Eh?"

We looked back at her, surprised by the sudden intrusion and muttered back in unison, "eh?"

"W-why are you all laying down on the furniture and floor?" she stammered, brows furled in bewilderment before exclaiming, "and _why is Ishihara on the refrigerator?!_ "

"The sensation of having my arms and legs make me feel like I'm levitating, ma'am, and with the ceiling so close to my face gives me a sense of security," muttered back Ishihara in a monotone.

"What a weird guy," I heard Lieutenant Morie mutter under her breath.

"What do you want Lieutenant?" I asked leaning back my head to stare at the ceiling.

"New orders from Colonel Kungen," Lieutenant Morie said, hear footfalls growing louder as she approached me and stuck another clipboard in my face, "you're being assigned to the Jade Palace to protect the diplomats and relieve security team one."

"Security detail? Not again," groaned Sanada.

"Don't complain Sanada. At least we'll get to eat some good food. Not to mention, there'll be noble female knights guarding the embassy with us," Ige said with a small smirk, turning from his position on the floor to watch Sanada's reaction.

Sanada shot up, exclaiming, "Souda! (That's right!)"

While the did, the cheap wooden table tilted rising rapidly like a seesaw. Sanada fell as the table flipped over and smacked him on the head. The young man didn't flinch in his momentary realization as blood started to drip down from his forehead. A part of the table corner had scratched his scalp and fell the ground with a loud clatter. Sanada's eyes glossed over like he had zoned out. Lieutenant Morie gasped in shock, while I just simply stared at the ranger. Seconds passed with no reaction. Morie probably thought Sanada had a concussion as she started to approach him. Okuda laughed when Sanada's blank lips curled into a lewd grin, a drop of saliva sliding down from the corner of his mouth.

"Eh?!" Lieutenant Morie screamed loudly, taken aback.

"He's fine Lieutenant," I said with a laugh, "Sanada's got a thick skull and he'll do anything if he even things of getting a chance of seeing a woman's breasts."

Lieutenant Morie snapped her head to me before looking down at her chest, covering them up with her arms.

"You don't have to worry ma'am," Sawada chimed in, "Sanada doesn't like a woman who indulges in drinking. After seeing you in the bar on Wednesday, he's crossed you off the list."

"Geh," there was a sound escaping from Morie's mouth as she stared angrily at the spaced out Sanada.

"Right, right. Let's cut the shit," I grunted, pushing myself off the floor and snatched the clipboard from Lieutenant Morie's grip, "time to get serious. Gather 'round Susanowo."

Everyone including Sanada stood up and started gathering around a single clipboard. Sanada grabbed tissue paper from the counter, pulling the white paper and dabbed it against his bleeding forehead. We read the contents of the clipboard page by page. It outlined our mission along with the radio frequencies, maps and charts used to coordinate air, land and sea assets as needed. A short rundown of all the personnel staffed at the Jade Palace as part of the diplomatic team and the knights who guard the outskirts of the Jade Palace. Our main and primary objective would be to protection of the diplomatic team for three weeks while a classified secondary objective would be given to us once I reported to General Hazama. I glanced towards Lieutenant Morie once again to notice something I didn't before. Outside the doorway, poking out from the outside was a green duffel bag, shimmering in the fluorescent glow of the lights. She was to be coming with us to operate the radios in the embassy and keep track of our missions as well as cover for us when we were away on any assignments that the minister of defense or General Hazama requested. Finished with the clipboard, I passed it over to Ikeda who quickly scanned the contents before giving it to the rest of the team members.

I glanced at Akagi and Sawada, "you two get the M24s back from the factory yet?"

"They arrived four days ago with the M2010 Enhanced Sniper Rifle furnishings. The factory upped the chamber to .300 WinMag so logistics is going to be an issue. We've got five hundred rounds for the rifles as extras from the refit to go through though," Sawada replied as I nodded.

"Ikeda, Okuda, Ige, load all of the necessary equipment onto the HMVs for me. Kazuki, ask the SAT for some of the WinMags they have in stock for me and then group up with Sanada, Sawada and Akagi to prep the vehicles for transport. I'll go sign out the cars and report to General Hazama before we leave," I ordered, grabbing my rifle and helmet.

"What about me?" asked Lieutenant Morie.

"Just take it easy Lieutenant and wait for us at the motor pool," I replied and walked out the door.

I went to the motor pool first to sign out the two HMVs to use as transports to travel to the Jade Palace. The attack on the Jade Palace forced the Japanese government to place soldiers to guard the palace like any normal embassy. While General Hazama was confident in the Order of the Rose Knights, eight security teams selected from standard infantry and the special forces group were assigned to protect the Japanese diplomats and the senior vice minister Shirayuri Reiko. The Jade Palace's security had been upgraded since the battle. Closed circuit television cameras had been installed, keycard access, panic room and even an armory with heavy weapons was stocked. Ever since new gates had opened up on Earth, the world's superpowers were preparing its forces to enter the Special Region. Scientists couldn't explain how new gates were appearing and even the magicians reverted to the old 'will of the gods' speak since the Rho/Shikoku gate had appeared after the liberation of Empress Pina.

A sigh escaped my lips as I stood at the top floor of the command post with my right hand poised over the metal door.

I knocked, my knuckle pounding heavily on the dense material.

"Come in," said a gruff voice.

Swinging the door open, I walked into the room and stood at the center of the room. General Hazama sat at a large wooden table with a thick binder, telephone, some piece of paper, a couple of pens and pencils along with another thick binder to his left. The room was elaborate by military standards with a carpet floor and wooden trimmings on the walls. A Japanese folding screen at the opposite end of the room from Hazama and a bookcase sat near the entrance. He looked up from his desk with sharp black eyes and crewcut hair. His nose wrinkled, attempting to rid of something on his toothbrush style mustache. General Hazama stood up after closing the small binder he was writing in as I snapped him a crisp salute.

"Lieutenant General Hazama, I, Captain Anderson Ryu, am reporting the reassignment of Advanced Force Operations Susanowo from Alnus to the Jade Palace sir!" I said, protecting my voice as he returned the salute.

"Ah Captain, at ease," Lieutenant General Hazama, placing down his pen, "I assumed you read all of the contents on the clipboard?"

"Yes sir," I replied holding my hands behind my back and spreading my feet.

"I'm sure you're aware that since the empress has been crowned that most of the anti-Japanese senates along with Prince Zorzal and his slave Tyuule has fled North," Lieutenant General Hazama explained, walking around to the front of the desk to sit on it as I nodded, "while most of his supports have fled north as well a portion of them have stayed inside the city hoping that one day either the prince or his brother Diablo. We believe that the portion that has stayed behind is stocking up arms for the next revolution or coup 'de tat, kidnapping pro-Japanese supports and causing domestic disturbances in certain parts of town, not to mention the stabbings that's rising at an increased rate."

Hazama, reached behind him and into a cardboard box that sat on his desk.

He threw a plastic case at me.

I caught the case and turned it over, it was a pack of cards with faces on it with names in both Imperial and Japanese as I asked, "Playing cards sir?"

"You remember the most wanted Iraqi playing cards that the Americans used in Operation Iraqi Freedom?" Hazama asked as I nodded.

"Same concept except that it's not for putting prices on people's heads. So far, that's the hierarchy of whom we think are in charge. Those are mostly for easy facial recognition and nothing else. Your mission is to preserve the peace between Japan and the Empire at all costs. None of those men and women on the cards are to be terminated unless it is on orders from either Colonel Kungen or me. Other persons of interests will be radioed to you via Lieutenant Morie, understood?" General Hazama asked, standing up.

"Yes sir!" I yelled as he nodded and walked back behind his desk.

"Good luck on your new assignment Captain. I heard that you've already made friends with one of the knights working there, that'll make it easier for you and your team. Dismissed," the General said and sat down at his table.

My feet snapped together as I saluted him before turning on my heels and walking out from his office. I softly closed the door behind me, staring at the deck of cards before pocketing them. There would always be dissidents after a sudden change to the ruling stance, from anti-Japanese to pro-Japanese. I briskly walked down the stairs and towards the motor pool. As the orange disc disappeared beneath the mountains and hills, the moon appeared in the sky. Two Mitsubishi high mobility vehicles sat in the middle of the two blocks of various machines. It seemed that my team had finished loading the equipment, gear and clothes into the trunks of the Type 73. Lieutenant Morie sat on the passenger of the second HMV with her legs dangling out with boredom etched all over her face. I made a detour to sign out the vehicles before meeting up with my team.

"Captain!" Sanada said with a large grin, "did the Lieutenant General say anything more about the mission?"

I dug into my pocket and pulled out the plastic case containing the cards, throwing it to the Sergeant before saying, "this."

"Playing cards with Imperial faces, names and positions?" Sanada asked, passing the case to the other members.

"Lieutenant General wants us to familiarize ourselves with the hierarchy of the uh…" I said, pausing to think of a name for the dissent faction, "resistance."

"Resistance? It's like they're the good guys," Ige grumbled.

"We don't know who's good or bad Ige so long as interests align. Everything's a grey area," I replied and gestured my head towards the HMV, "mount up."

Grumbling about the thought, we all mounted the vehicles. Once again, Ishihara was driving. His steely eyes were focused on the dim road only lit by the whitish lights of the Mitsubishi's headlamps. I sat in the passenger's seat with a radiophone stuck between my helmet strap and my ear to monitor radio transmissions while the snore of Sawada, Okuda and Sanada filled the cabin. It was a quiet night as the undulations of the jeep slowly lulled me into a sense of calm and security. Ripples in the grass from the occasionally brisk wind could be seen under the brilliant moonlight. It was a cloudless night. In the darkness of a world with no electricity, the stars sparkled energetically above. Green and red dots flashing in the air far above caught my attention. Flying at a low enough altitude, I could see a triangular set of lights accompanied by a much smaller set. The larger set of lights had a dull smoky plume that extended behind from its twin engines. The F-4J and the F-2B were out on patrol once more heading to and from the capital in standard fashion. The dull thunderous roar just loud enough to hear the engines of the jets passing by overhead. For the residents of the Special Region, the jets would have sounded like constant thunder, signaling rainfall that would never arrive. I watched the two sets of flashing green and red slowly disappear in the night sky, climbing higher and higher to mask their loud engines. I leaned back on the seat and rested my helmeted head against the headrest.

I envied Kenji.

It must have been much easier for him to fly in the Special Region without having to worry about other aircraft and restrictions into certain parts of the country. It was essentially open air space across the entire world for all he cared about.

I sighed heavily started tapping my fingers along my rifle's hand guard.

"Something bother you sir?" Ishihara asked through gritted teeth, focused on the road.

"Ah no," I said, clearing my throat, "I just saw the fighter jets passing through that's all."

"You know Captain. I know you used to be a fighter pilot. Okuda told me," Ishihara replied, wincing at a small bump in the road, "I can understand how you feel."

"Really now?" I asked.

Despite being together for almost a year, no one in Susanowo had shared much of our own personal stories with each other. While training we were together in pained silence but when we had time off or were in the barracks the team mostly separated. Special Forces Group members hung out together along with the Special Boarding Units, 1st Airborne with the Western Army Infantry Regiment and the Special Assault Team mostly kept to themselves. Men like Ige and Sawada were easy to bond with due to their friendly nature. Ishihara and Akagi were the ones that were often closed off. Even Sanada, a childhood friend of Ishihara's had a hard time trying to pry the Ranger out of his closed up shell. Sanada had told us that before enlisting Ishihara was as carefree as Sanada's but took a sudden turn six months before enlisting. Raised by his grandparents, Ishihara had to fend for himself and his two younger sisters when both his grandfather and grandmother died within short succession of each other. His father was an only child and had died in a case of drunken driving while his mother had committed suicide shortly after from severe depression. His mother's family had disowned and ostracized her for marrying a former yakuza member who now farmed for a living. With no income, Ishihara had to join the military and succeed in order to send his two younger siblings through school. Over the span of a year, his personality slowly changed into the cold, serious and stoic man he was today.

"I was stabbed right here," Ishihara said with a grunt, pointing to a small scar on his right arm just behind his wrist, "while Sanada and I were in the yakuza. We were just fourteen when we fought with a rival gang. Of course we never got caught otherwise how'd Sanada and I be in the 1st Airborne. But, I told my grandmother that it was broken glass that did it but it wasn't true. Even now I sometimes can't feel my pinky finger. What I'd do to give it all back so I can go back again."

"To be a yakuza?" I asked, looking at the younger man from the corner of my eye.

"To feel again sir, to feel again," Ishihara muttered back, "after my grandparents died and I looked at my two younger sisters, I wanted to run away but I didn't. It just felt…numb. Even now, it's still numb."

My lips pressed together, the things Ishihara must have gone through. I placed my hand on his helmet and rubbed it around like it was his hair. Ishihara turned to be briefly before looking back at the road nervously, "what are you doing Captain?"

"Come on, cheer up. We're in a new world! Clean slate," I said after Ishihara brushed my hand off of his helmet.

"I don't think I can comply with that order sir," Ishihara replied with the tiniest movement of his right lip curling up.

After an hour or two we entered down a road flanked by thick trees from either side. I flipped down my monocular night vision goggles over my eye and peered through the green image. There was nothing but empty woods yet, I pushed the buttstock of the SCAR deep into the nook in my shoulder and constantly scanned the right side. White light blinded my eye as I pushed the NOD (Night Observation/Optical Device) back up and returned my attention to the front of the vehicle. In front of me was a very lavish mansion. Domed roofs with green paint along with brightly lit windows from lights on the inside. A large lawn stretched from the front porch before tapering off in darkened dirt with tens littering its perimeter. Two storied with two wings, it was an impressive building to behold as we got closer. From a large purple tent appeared four heavily armored frames silhouetted against the lights of the Jade Palace. Ishihara drove past the large open double doored metal gate and came to a soft stop in front of the purple tent as the knights stepped into view. Three I didn't recognize. One had short purple hair and periwinkle eyes the same woman Colonel Kugen was photographed next to while another had blonde hair tied in a ponytail with brown eyes. The other had long deep blue hair and deep blue eyes next to her was one that I did recognize, her short boyish silver hair and emerald colored eyes staring back at me.

Panache.


	5. Chapter 4: Unintentional Mistake

Chapter 4: Unintentional Mistake

I opened the door, stepping out as I heard the other three groaning awake. I confidently strode towards the four knights in full-plate armor with my Mark 17 SCAR-H hanging just off of my chest with my finger just above the trigger and a clipboard in my left hand. I watched as jade eyes like chipped emerald ice slowly soften, her focused furled brow eased upon seeing me. My eyes darted between the four knights, carefully analyzing them. Panache was thinner than the others but I suspected that she made up for it with speed. They removed their grip from their sword after seeing Panache loosen up. I glanced at the one with purple hair as her steely periwinkle eyes glared back at me. The sound of opening doors was heard from behind me before the crunching of boots against the dirt ground. It seemed most of my team were awake. I extended the clipboard towards the purple haired girl as it looked like she was the leader of the group of four while more of the female knights appeared along with some of the few male knights.

"Miss Panache," I said with a small bow of my head as the purple haired girl took the clipboard.

"Anderson-sama," she replied with a short bow.

"It says you're here to change guards with the first security team?" asked the lilac haired knight.

"Yes ma'am," I nodded before asking, "and you are?"

"Beefeater E Caty, Captain of the Order of the Rose Knights," replied the knight as she handed back my clip board and gave me an Imperial salute.

"Gomen, gomen (Sorry, sorry)!" yelled out a voice from across the lawn.

It was an average built man in standard Type IV camouflage, his combat cap and a pistol holster on his thigh. As the man jogged closer, I could see his young face and his rank with clipboard. One stripe with one star above it – second lieutenant.

"I'm Second Lieutenant Koga Tatsuo, security team three, Special Forces Group," the man introduced himself as he looked over to Beefeater and said, "I'll take it from here."

"My men and women will help you move your equipment into the Jade Palace," Beefeater said with a nod as she turned around and yelled at the knights.

"Which company?" I asked, walking with him as he turned towards the Jade Palace.

"2nd Company, 3rd Platoon, mountain buddies am I right sir?" Koga asked as I nodded.

"Drop the honorifics. We're brothers aren't we?" I replied with a small smile.

"Well," he said energetically as he glanced down at his own clipboard, "you're going to be taking over day shift with us, Sec-Team Three on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and every other Sunday. Your team will be bunking with mine in a large bedroom that was meant for royals but was converted to security personnel quarters. No privacy of course but the officers each get their own rooms. They're small but what can you do about it, they were originally guestrooms for the butlers and staff working for the royals. There's a DFAC (Dining Facility) inside the kitchen where the men usually eat but officers can ask the maids to bring the food up to their rooms. The central security room is set up on the second floor in one of the old book rooms. The other details I'll let Second Lieutenant Fujioka explain, he's one of the personnel who has a longer posting here since he's in charge of information and communications."

As we marched off the dirt and onto the trimmed grass, I glanced behind to see both male and female knights pulling out plastic cases and metal boxes under the watchful eye of Ikeda and Kazuki. The rest of the team, along with Lieutenant Morie, entered the large wooden double doors. Bright lights blinded our night vision adjusted eyes as crystal chandeliers shined with the assistance of electricity. Marble floors with jade pillars matched the greenish tinted wall trimmings. The central stair case split after a few steps up into two directions leading to the left and right wings with old candelabras sat the end start of the handrail adding their lumens to the chandeliers. Behind the stair case at the first platform were three glass murals that both acted as windows and a work of art. Natural moonlight spilled through the multi-colored flecks and painted the platform in beautiful light. There was a collective gasp from us as we looked around the palace. We had never seen anything like this before save for the Ministry of Defense building and the National Diet building.

We were brought to the security room where numerous monitors were setup along with radio equipment. It was a large room enough to fit at least fourteen to eighteen men at once. Four desks with multiple stretcher beds were set up in the room. Once open air windows, ballistic glass was installed along with an air conditioner unit to keep the interior at a comfortable temperature even in the hottest of summers, although summers here were never too hot. In addition to the windows, a heavy blow-out proof door was installed to prevent smoke from entering the room in case the enemy tried to smoke out anyone working inside. Security Team Four was manning the station and had welcomed us with relaxed and lazy greetings. Each Security Team comprised of different units. Security Team One and Three were always selected from the Special Forces Groups while Security Teams Two and Five were from the Western Army Infantry Regiment while teams four, six, seven and eight were regular infantry units. With a mix of special forces teams, reconnaissance teams and regular infantry teams, under extreme circumstances, the Jade Palace could reconfigure to an asymmetric warfare command center in the case where Alnus Hill was disabled or unable to send out troops in addition to the defense of both diplomats and high-value targets. Next to the security room was the armory filled with an assortment of heavy weapons and support weapons. From the standard Sumitomo Type 62 to the L16 81mm mortars were kept in the armory. Ammunition of constant fire for at least a week was kept locked behind a gate with a quartermaster working at all times. The armor was fitted with the same heavy metal blow-out proof doors and was accessible from the main hallway and the security room.

Lieutenant Koga left us after showing us around the main areas we would working in. That's when a cat-eared girl in a maid uniform showed up and guided us to our own rooms. The enlisted men were thrown into a large carpeted room with numerous windows. Individual beds were laid out as my men bunked with Security Team Three, the same team we were to work with. I was led on further after the men saluted me and started greeting each other. My room was just a few steps away and at the end of the hallway. The cat-eared girl who introduced herself as Mercilla, opened the door to my new living quarters. I could tell just by looking that it used to be a storage room. While made out of the same marble flooring with green tinted trimmings, there were no windows I could see but it was moderately sized with a desk, desk lamp and a portable air-conditioning unit hooked up to a power outlet through a small hole drilled into the wall. A bookcase and cupboards were installed just next to the doorway. I thanked the maid and threw my duffel bag on the desk with a relieved sigh. We wouldn't go on duty until the next day, until then we were free to do whatever we wanted.

And what I wanted was a bath.

With a grunt, I pulled out my towel and a small IFAK bag purchased in the United States and took to the wide hallways. Mercilla had verbally told us where the baths were. Fresh with in her mind, I shuffled down the flight of stairs into the eastern wing without a single thought in mind except for the future of my team. We were to be one of the many offensive tools that the JSDF had in the Special Region despite their defensive stance on Alnus hill and the now built forward operating base on the Rho river. I couldn't care about the politics going on behind the scenes, I was a trigger puller and thought of my job as such until the morality of killing came into question. What intrigued me was the Special Region itself, the medieval structure that the Empire and its vassal states had. On a world slightly larger than Earth, more civilizations would be encountered. Maybe we would find a similar Greek, Nordic and even feudal Japanese civilizations beyond the one continent we had discovered.

There was a bored yawn as the thoughts raced through my mind, my boots naturally treading onto the cold tiles of the bath.

A warmth took to the air and mist of steam appeared in the wide Roman inspired bath house room. Unlike the onsen back in Japan, the large entrance bath was sunken into the ground with colorful tiles. In typical Roman fashion, there were high arches supported by pillars connecting it to the hypocaust underfloor heating system. I disrobed. Pulling off my boots and placing my roughened feet on the ground, I could feel the warmth enveloping my lower limbs. A blanket of warmth enveloped my digits as I pulled down my pants and took off thee ventilated multicam combat shirt. I looked down at my body and chuckled. Patting my stomach, I watched as skin jiggled between the barely noticeable six-pack that had been bred through grueling training and high calorie foods of the army. I had gained weight just before the deployment. Three weeks of inactivity and lazing around my parents' house along with my father's superb meat grilling skills were to thank for that. Two pairs of long scarred wounds stretched from my upper chest all the way to my shoulder blades. I ran my hands along the tender healed skin left from carrying too far heavy loads in the Appalachian Mountains in North Carolina while training with the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment – Delta's G Squadron also known as Delta Force. G Squadron specialized in advanced force operations, reconnaissance and surveillance. I was the victim of carrying far too much in my own pack, in addition to portable SINCGARS (Single Channel Ground and Airborne Radio System) and SATCOM (Satellite Communication) radios, I had to pleasure to ruck a large lensed DSLR camera. With nearly twenty kilograms of extra weight, I soldiered through the mountainous terrain only to discover once we had rested that my shoulders were drenched in a dull red. Front and back of the uniform was turned red from blood seeping through chaffing wounds and without a single word, I carried the weight through the entire training course. The memories were pleasant in hindsight as I entered the water with one foot.

The water was searing to touch. My foot slowly reddened like a lobster. I slowly moved in, other foot, now thigh and the other. Seconds at a time I submerged by body into the water as the heat rose to my face. Involuntarily, I let out a long and relieved sigh and placed my towel over my head. Silence ruled the air. The constant swishing of water as my body occasionally floated and sank, steam hissing every now and then from the medieval heating piping around the edges of the room. I could feel the stress, exhaustion and dirt melting away.

Then a soft plat against the heated floor caught my attention.

I turned around and there it was.

Breasts.

 _Wait, what,_ I thought, _surely I this was the men's bath._

I looked up from the nearly flat chest up towards the face. It was the same silver haired girl that I helped tour the hangar. I had to say, she was far slimmer than I thought outside her armor. But that was as far as I got as her face slowly turned twisted in embarrassment and rage. She had her towel gripped loosely by her side, unafraid of what had waited in the bath house. That very same hand slowly tore into the fabric and was now a ball. Her feet slammed forward as if she was charging a target with her sword. I stood up, my towel fluttering down towards the water. Panache stopped as her eyes traveled down. I was completely butt naked. That only made it worse. She leapt from where she stood, mouth open with a roar erupting from it. In a split second, time slowed as I made no attempt to move. I had accepted my fate and would embrace it would full responsibility. A smack rung between my ear as I bit down hard. My cheek exploded in pain as her knuckles dug into my jaw. Had I not taken repeated strikes to the head from martial arts training and close quarters combat training, my jaw would have surely dislocated. There was loud splash as I sank into the water. Heated water seared my skin. I sank below the surface with my mouth open.

I managed a single sound before the boiling water flooded my mouth, "Ack!"

Panache calmed down after she had socked me in the face. The two of us sat awkwardly in the large tub, faced away as I rubbed my now numb side of the face. Her blow wasn't as hard as the men I trained with but if I didn't clench my jaw, it would have surely been dislocated or fractured. There was an awkward silence that ensued that felt suffocating to me. I didn't want to get up first and I could tell that Panache wasn't going to get up either. We sat there for what seemed like hours in the bath house. I cleared my throat, trying to mask the awkwardness. As I started to rise out of the water, there was movement behind me.

"W-w-wait," stammered the silver haired knight.

I glanced back and saw Panache pull her towel closer to her chest.

Sitting back down, I turned my full attention to her. Panache's jade eyes averted my gaze and dropped down towards the shimmering warm water.

"I'm truly sorry about the tour of the flying machines," she muttered just audible enough over the occasional hiss of steam, "I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you since I have seen what transpired between you and Kenji-sama. I understand that I've caused you some emotional harm which is far worse than any physical one."

"Whatever it takes?" I asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Yes…" Panache murmured as she stood up, her hand letting go off the towel.

There was another awkward silence.

The partially soaked towel quickly dropped into the water as Panache exposed her bare body to me. I gulped taken aback by her sudden determination and devotion. Did all the knights and noble go to such great lengths in such negotiations? After all, this was the old days of marriage for power and blatant assassinations disguised as either accidents or framing another party for political domination. My gaze shifted from Panache's frame towards the side of the bath. Her skin was close to flawless, she was a noble after all. But, there were some scars on her slightly reddened skin. Minor scars and scratches that were had during training. They were few but enough to tell me that she was trained to be a warrior. I stood up from the water, not bothered by the both of our nudity and started to exit the bath.

I had been here too long.

"Am I undesirable?" Panache asked as I shook my head.

She had piqued my interest and I wanted to know her better, the standard courting way of the modern Japanese society.

"No," I replied picking up a spare towel and tossing it to her, "not at all. How about just having dinner every now and then?"

Panache caught the towel with her right hand, her slim yet toned muscles glistened from the dripping water.

She nodded slowly as I wiped myself off.

Our first dinner together would be two days later.


	6. Chapter 5: In the Shadows

Author's Note: Surprise! Two chapters this week. I'll be going away for the week and won't return until Sunday. So there will be two chapters this week instead of one. I hope you guys are enjoying the story thus far. Thanks to all the guys who has left reviews. Those words means a lot to me in terms of more motivation to continue writing this tale.

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Chapter 5: In the Shadows

Night passed quickly as my alarm once again woke me up at four in the morning. Instead of training, I lugged myself out of bed and headed to the bath, this time being mindful of the people inside. I hadn't realized but there were three different baths in the Jade Palace, one for the women, one for the men and one for the guests, royalty and the diplomats. I had wandered into the wrong wing by accident occupied by thoughts of the deployment not the mention the possibility of executing the very same COIN (COunter-INsurgency) operations taught to us by various counter insurgent groups all over Earth. With an intangible burden pressed on my shoulders, I sat down at the center of the security room after I had relieved Security Team Eight.

Security Team Eight comprised of infantrymen from the Northern Army, 5th Brigade, 5th Reconnaissance Company and commanded by a short but bulky Sergeant Major Ito Masao. At forty-eight years old, Sergeant Major Ito was married with kids. One of his sons from a family of four was enlisted and in the Special Region with the Western Army Infantry Regiment assigned to the yet to arrive JS Kunisaki as a boarding and amphibious assault element. After we exchanged short conversations during the breakfast hours, he retreated back to his room.

Akagi and Sawada manned small sniper nests set up in both the western and eastern wings while Okuda and Ige along with Sanada and Ishihara patrolled the perimeter of the embassy with knights from the Order of the Rose. Kazuki and Ikeda manned the security room with me while Hasegawa sat by the radio equipment with her headphones on. Hasegawa idly tapped at her phone from boredom. The Jade Palace was recently installed with Wi-Fi and cellular antennas that transmitted via long range dishes mounted at the highest point of the Jade Palace. Multiple redundancy points between the capital city of Sadera and Alnus were established in towns along the roads leading to and from the capital.

I sat at the central desk with my chair leaned back and my boots up on the table. My hand was rubbing the stubble that was starting to grow since I had shaved a couple days ago with glassed over eyes staring at a split feed of the cameras displayed on the triple monitors in front of me. While the frosty air hummed from the vents of the portable A/C unit, I watched the knights go about their training with their longswords. Their footwork and parries were similar if not the same ones usually found in HEMA (Historical European Martial Arts) classes and tournaments across the world back on Earth.

"Jade Palace SecTeam One, go for message," Hasegawa sudden spoke up, her phone dropping to the desk with a loud clattering.

I glanced over, sitting up in interest.

"Counter sign Kusanagi," replied Hasegawa to the radio.

Hasegawa reached for a small paper pad jammed between files in a nearby cabinet and started to scribble with her pen. I stood up, walking over to her side as she wrote down whatever the other radio operator was conveying to her. On the paper, her hasty calligraphy was nearly impossible to decipher. But I could make out bits and pieces of information. Words like Akusho, fruit vendor and possible cell leader, interrogate and terminate popped out at me. Dots started connecting in my head as I grabbed my headset and placed it on my head. Akusho was the red-light district inside the Empire's capital of Sadera. It was possible that the man in question we were to find was a possible fruit vendor in the surrounding area. The last two words were self-explanatory.

"Anderson to Susanowo," I spoke into the headset, "stand by for radio briefing."

Hasegawa pulled her headphones off and quickly ran towards us, Ikeda and Kazuki stood surrounding her.

I squeezed the transmit button strapped to my vest on the table, "Orders straight from General Hazama approved by the ministry of defense. Intelligence from undercover agents working with the empress's imperial guard has pinpointed a man called Lupus believed to be a weapon smuggler and ring leader of a kidnapping group responsible for the missing prostitutes, guards and two anti-war senates over the last five months. Usual garb is a white tunic, sandals. He is believed to be in his thirty and weathered. We're looking for a long scar on his left leg and right arm. Hazama wants us to interrogate and search the man's house if possible."

There was a pause as I listened the Hasegawa as she regurgitated the information, "then terminate him. We step off in thirty minutes. Breakdown your gear and meet me in the lobby."

A silence took over the airwaves as Ikeda and Kazuki turned around and took off for the room next door. I glanced at Hasegawa as she looked up at me, our gazes locking with each other's.

"Does that mean I'm coming too?" she asked as I nodded.

Her usually bright face turned serious and dark as I flicked my radio channel over.

"Anderson to Koga," I said with no response, "Anderson to Koga."

After repeating myself a couple of times, there was a loud yawn before the reply, "Koga here…go for message."

"Koga, would SecTeam Three mind taking over for Team One? I'll make it up to you by doing a double shift on Friday," I replied as there was sleepy reply.

"Yeah," muttered Koga while yawning, "orders from Hazama?"

I didn't respond.

"Say no more, I already know the answer. We'll be right there," Koga said with a grunt as I could hear him getting off the bed.

Within a few minutes most of my team had returned and were busy pulling things out of the armory while different uniforms were worn to adjust to the similar operations that American Special Forces executed in the Middle-East and Africa. Kazuki, Hasegawa, Okuda and Ikeda changed from their standard issue Type IV camouflage uniforms into civilian garb comprised of tunics, togas and sandals that were common to the area. The rest of the team swapped out their standard plate carrier fitted with heavy steel bulletproof plates for lighter load bearing vest that only held items in lower abdominal and side pouches. I grabbed my boonie hat my go-ruck propped up against the table's metal leg and draped a beige hooded cloak over my body. Lieutenant Koga pushed through the heavy door with three members of his team. His second in command, Sergeant Kenzaki scratched at his hair through bleary eyes as I shrugged on the rucksack.

"Security Team Three, relieving Security Team One of the watch," Lieutenant Koga said with a sloppy salute.

I snapped a quick salute back to the younger man, "Security Team One, I am relieved of the watch."

"You owe me and my guys a round after you get back from wherever you guys are going Captain," Lieutenant Koga said with a smile as he gave me a short nod.

"Definitely," I replied and slapped Koga on the arm before gesturing the men towards the door.

Seven of my men gathered in the lobby with Security Team Three helping us carry plastic weapon cases and crates to the front lawn. A few of the off-duty knights hovered by their tents with their gaze fixed on us as Kazuki, Ikeda and Hasegawa off to borrow a couple of carts horse drawn carts from the local town. I sat down on a wooden crate full of fresh rations generously provided to us by the Jade Palace staff and reached into my ruck. From inside, I pulled out a small circular disc that closely resembled something a woman would carry. I flipped up the casing to reveal six small partitions of black, grey, khaki, green, white and brown. The colors had a slick sheen to them similar to oil paint. Rubbing my finger into the semi-solid material, I smeared the grey around my forehead, below my eyes, nose and chin. Soon the mishmash of colors slowly covered my face, ears and neck. Using the ghost face technique, I covered the protruding of my face with the darkest colors. Black, grey, brown and some green were applied to my eyelids, chin, and forehead. While the recessed parts were covered with lighter colors. The technique was to make the recessed parts and protruding parts appear flat and break up the outlines that would otherwise make us identifiable. After we were finished, I glanced around at the seven of us fully camoed up. Our faces were now barely recognizable with the myriad of colors that seemed randomly smeared onto our faces.

"Are you just playing with paint now?" one of the younger male imperial guards assigned to augment the Order of the Rose Knights asked, "I thought the JSDF were honorable warriors. And here you are playing with paint like a kid again."

The seven of us stood up in unison to the guard wearing a lorica segmentata. Body armor made up of iron plates fastened to internal leather straps that shimmered and rattled as he moved. Four of his other friends were their laughing along with him. A low growl emanated from Ige, the smaller man unintimidated by the Special Boarding Unit serviceman. My hand traveled behind the cloak and gripped the hilt of my combat knife strapped to the back of my belt. The katana was left behind since it wasn't needed, we weren't going behind enemy lines.

"Knock it off right now Guardsman!" bellowed a female voice.

The gruff voice belonged to Panache, it was a side of her I hadn't seen. She was accompanied by two other female knights and two other male knights that quickly marched over towards us. Panache was swift to act. She drew her sword and smacked the flat edge of the blade with lightning fast speed at the imperial guard's chest. There was a crack that was clear in the morning air. The guardsman landed on his back with a loud pained groan. His two friends quickly picked him up by the arms and were escorted out by the male knights. Panache returned her sword to its rightful place by her left waist with a crisp motion. She turned to me and bowed deeply.

"I must apologize for the men's actions," she said, the top of her silver hair was all that I could see, "ever since the Prince's exile and the massacre that the Imperial Army befell, hatred and resentment are still being held in the men's hearts. Their pride has been damaged."

"It's alright. I don't mind it. I'm just glad you intervened before it escalated. My men won't be very…diplomatic when a fight starts," I replied, releasing the grip on my knife's hilt.

Panache lifted her head up and asked curtly, "are you traveling somewhere?"

"Ah yeah, I might not be back for a couple days so that dinner's going to have to take a raincheck," I answered with a small smile.

The two female knights behind her looked at each other before leaning in and whispering, "dinner?"

Panache's face instantly reddened, her eyes glancing away, "a-ah, that's completely understandable."

"Dinner?" Sanada blurted out loud, "does that mean you guys have gotten to first base already?"

"Ichee Ruee?" Panache asked trying to emulate our Japanese.

"Kissing," Sanada stated tactlessly as I smacked the back of his head.

I could see Panache turning a deep beet red and her eyes quivering in their sockets, "h-h-have a safe trip!" Panache stammered and quickly turned around on her heel, pushing her two comrades with her as they giggled, glancing over to me before looking back at Panache.

"You're horrible," Ishihara muttered coldly, "can't you even read the situation? Konoyaro (You Jerk)."

My eyes narrowed to slits as I grabbed Sanada's ear, twisting it up as he screamed, "itai! Itai!"

"If you don't want to do extra PT (Physical Training) you better not tell this to Kazuki or Ikeda. I don't want either of them constantly teasing at me while I'm duty, understood?" I growled through gritted teeth and a large smile.

Before Sanada could answer another female voice interrupted us, "What are you guys doing?"

"Ah, Lieutenant Hasegawa," I said releasing Sanada from my grip, "perfect timing."

We shuffled around after the embarrassing short banter to load both equipment cases and crates filled with ammunition and food onto the back of two horse-drawn carts along with crates of freshly made bread and pastries. Hasegawa, Ikeda, Kazuki and Okuda were split into two teams carrying three of the men each in the rear of the carriages. After we had boarded the carriages, work did not end. Cheesecloth was taped to the ribs just inside the front and rear of the cart to allow us to look out of the carriage itself without anyone being able to look in. Crates and boxes were pushed together to allow two men to lay flat on top with ample room the move. Sawada and Ige was to be dropped off at the medical outpost in Akusho, moving independently to the second floor of a house overlooking the street where the market square was located. Two of the carts would be positioned to provide the most coverage of the market square at opposite ends of the square while Sawada and Ige had views of two of the four roads leading into the square itself.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips as we had finished up with the final preparations of what would become a day's worth of inactivity. On top of the crates were Ridgerest Solar mattresses that provided comfort while we were on our chests. Akagi had unpacked his recently revamped M2010 Enhanced Sniper Rifle after shipping the two rifles to Remington for a refit. The rifles were used extensively during the latter half of our year in training going through far more rounds that a normal sniper rifle should have in addition being already worn and used in service by Japanese snipers beforehand. The request to update and refit the two oldest M24s in Japanese service was approved by the Ministry of Defense. Akagi had spent a better part of two weeks with Sawada firing their rifles in all sorts of configurations and loads. Suppressed, unsuppressed, match-grade and subsonic ammunition, they recorded their results in a small book filled with ballistic charts for baseline performance. While all men had received sniper training, the Akagi and Sawada drilled deeper into the marksmanship side of the course more so than any of us. While we transitioned out to field craft, Akagi and Sawada refined their marksmanship for additional two weeks before joining us again with instruction from both Special Forces and private contractor instructors.

I laid back against the wooden door of the cart where Ikeda and Hasegawa sat.

"Captain," Ikeda said without even looking back, "if I may ask a question."

"What is it?" I asked Ikeda, sweat already dripping down from my boonie hat.

"You do realize that being in a relationship with persons from the Special Region is restricted right Captain?" Ikeda said his remarks jabbing straight in the heart like a cold dagger.

"I'm not even in a relationship with her yet Ikeda," I replied, the corner of my mouth twitching, "it was just asking her to dinner to understand the inner workings of the Imperials better and get closer to the Order of the Rose Knights."

 _Sanada, you fucking blabbermouth,_ I cursed silently in my head.

Ikeda's lips curled into a small smile, he always loved pushing people's buttons. It was one of the few sick little games he loved to play.

"Ah Captain," Hasegawa said ominously, "I didn't think you'd be this type of man."

"What type…of man?" I said confused and caught off guard.

"The man type of man that exploits a girl's weakness when she's," I wrapped my gloved hand around her mouth, trying to cut her off before she did any more damage, "mrghfff!"

"Who did you hear that from?" I hissed in Hasegawa's ear, my eyes narrowing into slits as I slightly relaxed my grip.

"I was gossiping with one of the maids," she said with a lecherous moan.

I quickly released her and backed away, surprised and frightened.

"Are you an…M?" Ikeda asked, shock written all over his face.

"It's wrong to ask if a girl's a top or bottom," Hasegawa replied, pulling a small handkerchief up to her face.

 _Perverts and weirdos, the lot of them!_

Retreating back besides Akagi, I sat in silence against the crates as the creaking of the wagon slowly approached Sadera. Large walls started to rise from the ground and the traffic intensified. We rolled on top of the foam mats, resting our elbows on the warmed tops and shouldered our rifles. My SCAR sat propped up against my rucksack at the side of the wagon hidden by crates with cloth draped over them. The battle rifle in my hands was a standard issue HK417 provided by the Jade Palace's armory. Fitted with a suppressor and a Vortex 3-18x scope, it was the perfect weapon for reconnaissance. All of the four personnel dressed up as vendors wielded the combat MP7 hidden in their tunics and were able to bring them to bear at a moment's notice.

Soon, we creaked past the city gates. Akagi and I pulled the covering cloth over our bodies and the boxes. Our rifles rested on sandbags, their barrels covered by cloth while a cutout allowed our scopes to observe the area in front of us unobstructed. I could hear the creak of the rear door hinges opening up. Ige dismounted with a crunch. The boxes far behind us were dragged out and given to the medical staff working at the clinic. Extra supplies since we were going to go by this way anyhow. The air outside was cool but the temperature inside the carriage started to skyrocket. Sweat dripped down freely from my hat and my neck. In silence, Akagi and I were simply motionless bundles of muscles, nerves and bone. It would be minutes before we came to a rest. With the horse led off to a nearby trough and our stall stocked with fresh bread and pastries, Ikeda and Hasegawa started their roleplay as street vendors.

"Loaf of bread for thirty-two soruda! Loaf of bread for thirty-two!" Hasegawa yelled cheerfully, jumping up and down to attract customers.

The market starting to burst with activity. Women and men flocked to the stalls. All kinds of species intermingled with one another. Even the werewolves, two hundred and fifty centimeters to three hundred centimeters tall of fur and muscle walled the marketing square of Akusho. Unlike the werewolves in the fairy tales back on Earth, these sapient bipedal creatures did not transform back into humans. They walked in a permanent state of full form wolf. Winged humanoids with angelic like appendages protruding from their backs walked in rags and exquisite clothing. Some the very rich and some close to being homeless poor walked the streets, shopping for food, jewelry and weapons much like markets back home. I stared through the magnified optic with my finger resting above the trigger, observing the crowd of people that slowly formed since the morning light of the now risen sun. Through the translucent whitish cheesecloth, I watched as Hasegawa happily interacted with her customers and Ikeda packaged the pastry. The two were roleplaying a team of husband and wife. Hasegawa went all out in a way that made me want to laugh. My mind was filled with internalized laughter that threatened to make my body quiver in humorous laughter. A single thought of Panache in the bathroom quickly turned humor into embarrassment.

"Sawada," came the similar voice in my earpiece.

"Go for message," I murmured, the throat microphone was voice activated.

"Sawada has eyes on POI (Person of Interest) matching the description. POI located north northwest nearest stall to the outgoing road. Confirmed scar on right arm. POI is currently wearing blue tunic, repeat blue tunic with knots on his right shoulder and a blade tucked in between his belt and pants. Two belts on waist. Left eyes is white with a scar over it. How copy?"

"Solid copy," I muttered back, Akagi scribbling the description into his small notepad.

"I'll go check it out," Ikeda whispered as he looked back at the cart before turning to Hasegawa. "Wife…I'll go purchase us something to partake while we work, continue with your exchange in the stall understood?" Ikeda said with difficulty. His awkward choice of words and almost monotonous displayed his rigid personality.

"Bye honey," Hasegawa replied, and quickly pecked him on the lips.

I saw through the glass, a small twitch of Ikeda's right eyebrow and his face turning a deep red.

My laughter could barely be contained.

As Ikeda walked off, Hasegawa turned to the scantily clad Warrior Bunny, "My hubby has the hardest time expressing his feelings!"

"You two look so cute together! I could see that he loves you when he blushed," she replied as Hasegawa thanked her.

Minutes would pass before Ikeda returned with two reddened and ripened apples in hand. The sun would reach its highest point in the sky. How did I know it was noon? The heat was unbearably hot and the people likewise started to disappear from the marketplace in favor of lunch. Hasegawa and Ikeda retreated to the cart, sitting in the shade of the poorly constructed houses in the square. Akagi and I pulled off the thin fabric to find our camouflage clothing soaked through with sweat. The foam pad that we laid on were slick with liquid. Heat and humidity suffocated me inside the cart like a sauna made of just wood and the steam replaced with sweat. I pulled off the hooded cloak and the thick camouflage jacket, now safe from prying eyes as Hasegawa and Ikeda sat in front of us. The four of us pulled out a green packet from our packs and a crate. While the Type II Meals Ready to Eat were rare outside of Japanese service, a few circulated in the market at inflated prices since they were long life shelf foods. Rich merchants and high ranking military officers embarking on long journeys would often have one or two of these green bags along on the trip in case their trade convoys ever ran out of food.

"Itadakimasu," Akagi and I murmured.

"Mrhmm…" I purred chewing the cooked braised pork.

Menu 20, Nagasaki style braised pork with dried seaweed and two servings of white rice.

My favorite.

The four of us chewed through our food in silence. One half of us was exhausted from the non-stop shouting, packaging and exchanging of bread. While the other half was drenched in sweat and tried from inactivity. Usually, we would take a thirty minute break every couple of hours. Strain was the main opponent we had to deal with. Snipers were not machines. The human behind the rifle would require some break to prevent our eyes from become blurry, muscles from becoming fatigued and minds from become dull. If we lost focus and became frayed, the humanoids of the Special Region could pick up on our mistakes. Their better than average hearing could hear the rattling of the rifle or the grunts escaping our lips as we attempted to hold the rifle steady for hours on ends despite the comfortable position. Akagi and I sat in a puddle of sweat, water and urine. When we had to go, we couldn't step outside the cart and as repulsive as it seemed we had to do whatever it took to complete the mission. Akagi had been through worse. Even in sniper training, Akagi and Sawada had to stalk through sewers and trenches filled with animal and human excrements, sludge of decaying fauna and noxious fumes. The two men were often placed in the loneliest spot in the world. And all the decisions they would make rests by exerting three pounds of pressure on a highly tuned trigger.

We took a short respite after finishing our meals. People slowly trickled back into the square. Akagi and I flipped the pads over, liquid drained from the plastic foam and onto the wooden floors of the cart. We remounted the pads and shouldered our weapons. Time would continue to pass slowly as Akagi and I squinted through the scope of the rifle. Boxes of unknown content were delivered to the fruit vendor and his workers. Two human males and two werewolves shuffled new crates of fruit to his stall after he ran out. Four unknown boxes were delivered between the morning and the evening.

The sun would set without much fanfare. Blue skies would turn crimson. Red streaks brushed across the sky with long trailing clouds that moved swiftly in the dusk. Heated air became cooled in the absence of the sun's warmth. Creatures of the night started their nocturnal ritual. Chirps, hoots and howls filled the now near empty streets. Accompanying the city's darkness was the city's underworld. Characters cloaked in hooded cloaks ducked in between alleys and imperial guard patrols. The patrols increased in frequency and size. What were once a pair of soldiers or four, there was now six to eight men moving up and down the streets. As the activity at the market dwindled, I pulled off my sweat and urine soaked uniform. The cart rustled and creaked as the four of us changed into standard camouflage. We quickly slipped on the multicam shirt and trousers, pulled on the plate carriers and donned the standard OpsCore Sentry XP helmet in multicam colors.

As the sun dipped far below the horizon and the crimson sky now pitch black, we hopped out the back of the cart.

"Sawada, Anderson, Ige and I have set up security across POI's house. Five men have entered and there has been no activity since 1900, repeat five men have entered and no activity since 1900," the former figma sculpture murmured into the comms.

"Roger that Sawada we're five mikes out," I murmured back, looking back at the team.

Seven steely eyed warriors glanced back at me. On their faces was a muddled canvas of green, black, brown and grey. Gone were the boonie hats and caps that the merchants wore. Hasegawa had marks of black drawn across her face taught during basic training. She wore the standard Type IV camouflage set that the soldiers in the Special Region wore. In her arms were the MP7A1 submachine gun in place of the full Howa Type 64 fitted with a red dot and suppressor. Crouched between two rickety houses in the slums, we waited for the next patrol to pass us before moving. This was what we do, this was what we trained for.

"I hate this place," I heard the grumbling in Imperial along with the clattering of heavy shields and clanging of roman armor, "smells like the filth that live here."

"You only come here for two reasons. For pleasure and when you're completely broke," laughed another one.

I pressed my body against the wall, making sure that none of my body parts protruded from the cover we hid behind. I'm glad they only had candle light and torches. It would have been much harder with the brighter street lamps that now adorned the Earth. I swiveled down my monocular night vision goggle and activated the device as the guards marched past us. Lifting my rifle, I aimed the weapon at the guards, gripping the grenade launcher module tightly for a stable sight picture. The imperial guards continued marching onwards without ever suspecting a thing. Lowering my weapon, I waved the team forward and counted each man and woman as they ran silently by. Rubber soled boots crunched dully against the dirt as I stood up. As the last man, I glanced left and right to make sure no one was left behind before sprinting after them.

"Sawada, mark 2006. Lights on the first floor," came the report as we quietly stalked the streets.

My hand instinctively squeezed the transmit switch strapped on my vest. We came to a stop down another generic street with almost no signs. The houses here were built studier with less patchwork and was situated against the walls leading to higher class housing. Reaching into my admin pouch, I pulled out a small flashlight. Funny thing about it was that it doesn't work. That is, until you donned night vision goggles. It was made specifically to fill the role of an infrared flashlight. I raised the heavy cylindrical tube and pressed the button in a series of slow and fast clicks. The darkened street in my right eye remained lit up the faint moonlight above hidden by scattered clouds. My left eye flashed with white light, bathing the eerily green patch of dirt road in invisible light. There was a pause as single shining light answered me from the alley.

Another series of blinking lights in Morse code.

I looked back. Pointing to the gun, I drew a square without a bottom in the air for my squad. Okuda stepped forward. He moved quickly with his SCAR pointed at the house on the same side of the street as us. Okuda was the breacher. Hailing from the 4th Platoon, he specialized in urban warfare. A district like Akusho was Okuda's stomping ground. The team stacked up on both sides of the door. On the right side was Okuda, Ikeda, Kazuki and Sanada. I stacked up on the left side of the door with Hasegawa, Ishihara and Akagi. Both Akagi and Sanada pointed their weapons away from the house, covering our rear. I looked up and locked gazes with Okuda. He raised his right hand, three fingers extended.

"Sawada, you see anyone leave from anywhere else but the main door, you terminate them," I murmured in the throat mic.

"Copy," Sawada muttered hidden behind a straw barrel with a cloak over his head with Ige on the other side of the alley wall, crouched.

Okuda gave me a curt nod.

I counted slowly in my head, _one one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand._

In one smooth motion, I stepped next to the door and brought my knee forward before forcefully slamming the foot of my boots into the door. Whatever held the door closed buckled upon impact with a loud crack. Thunderous sounds of boots smashing into wood filled my ears as Okuda stomped inside. I turned around, close behind the point man. With my rifle raised, a white beam of light shot forward from the infrared laser pointer painting the walls and furniture as I moved the weapon to sweep the area.

There was no one inside.

The rest of the team came thundering in, the room was painted in lights but no one was to be found. I pointed at Kazuki and Ikeda to go check upstairs while I jabbed at Sanada towards the door. The 1st Airborne Unit paratrooper nodded, crouching behind a table and deploying his bipod. Akagi slowly retreated back into the house and closed the creaking door. He lifted up the M2010 and rested the long barrel on his left bicep, the suppressed barrel just centimeters behind edge of the wooden entrance. Okuda, Ishihara and I slowly walked around the room. Our eyes were looking at each brick, each piece of furniture, anything to give us a clue to where Lupus was. Low, dull rattling tickled my ears. My eyes snapped to the left of the room where the kitchen would be. Instead of wooden planks held together by nails, there was a large stone arch with a book case that matched it fitted in the recess of the wall. I squinted my left eye and moved slowly closer. Creaks from behind me belonged to Okuda and Ishihara. The two realized what was happening, raising their weapons to the bookcase.

Flittering light seeped from a small crack in the bookcase. It seemed like the bookcase itself wasn't closed shut properly. I slowly moved, leaning over slightly to the left to make sure the lens of the night vision goggle could see through the crack. A soft pained moan escaped from the crack. I could see part of a man's leg tied to a chair's leg with darkened liquid flowing down his limb. A giant hulking werewolf from earlier was also seen leaned back against the stone wall of the secret room. Another human crouched in front of the man. In his hand was a curved short blade, curling forward in an extremely sharp point. His hand disappeared behind the stone wall as a muffled agonizing scream echoed from the crack.

I reached up to the radio transmit and squeezed the switch once. Kazuki and Ikeda came sneaking around the stairs as I raised my left hand to my helmet, palm covering my left eye. My hand quickly gripped my throat before extending one finger to the team. One hostage. I flashed two fingers and raised my hand over my rifle, palm facing my right wrist. Two enemies seen. Sweeping my hand towards the door, I clenched my left hand into a fist with the palm facing the air. Okuda nodded in compliance. The hulking man moved over to the bookcase as I slipped a small cylindrical tube from my vest. My digits curled around a small ring connected to the cylinder. Okuda glanced up at me as I nodded.

The count began, _one one-thousand._ I counted as I pulled the pin from the cylinder. _Two one-thousand._ My thumb flicked up and the _slick_ of the flashbang's spoon flying off. _Three one-thousand._ In one smooth motion, Okuda grunted and pulled the bookcase wide open. The wood screeched against wood as I slammed the nine-banger into the ground. I could hear the flashbang bounce off the floor with a satisfying _thunk!_ The men previously staring at the book case, crouched and turned away from the direction to shield themselves from what was to come. I turned away and squeezed my eyes shut.

"What in Palapon's name?!" one of them started to yell just to be cut off.

 _Bang! Riiing!_

A loud explosion went off as my ears started to ring. No sooner did the explosion go off, I turned around and opened my eyes. My SCAR came naturally rising up and pointed into the hidden room. A laser of invisible infrared light shot out from the small box attached to the top of the rifle, painting a hulking furred creature in white light. I paused for a split second, trying to discern the body parts of the creature. A head bopped up and down with ears twitching madly behind large clawed hands pressed against it. I exhaled, squeezing the trigger. The rifle recoiled against my shoulder. Dark liquid exploded from behind the werewolves' head, spraying the man tied to the chair. The bullet had entered through the creature's right hand and continued slicing through muscle, cartilage and bone then his left hand without stopping as it exited the other side. Both of his hands laxed into his collarbone, crumpling into the ground without making another sound. Rays of light painted three other men. The ringing in my ear slowly subsided only to be filled with the cracking of supersonic bullets and suppressed muzzle noise. The two other humans and the remaining werewolf was peppered with bullets. Their screams of pain from the flashbang silenced forever. The man dressed in military imperial guard armor shook and twitched wildly as blood sprayed into him from his bullet riddled captors. I could feel liquid splattering my clothes and face, the hundred kilogram bodies crashed into the pool of blood already there from before.

Seconds later, the room became quiet save for the whimpering of the tied man.

I lowered my weapon and flipped up the night vision goggle. Huddled in the corner was a man dressed in blood splattered blue tunic with two belts and sandals. He started to scream after the firing had been stopped, rolling on the ground and rubbing his eyes. Marching over to him, I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him up. My right hand pulled back, clenched in a fist before slamming forward with a satisfying crunch against Lupus's face. His head jerked back as his screams went quiet. Warm liquid slid down my digits, Lupus now quiet and out cold.

"Cut the guard down," I murmured, my entire body now feeling ice cold, "and tie Lupus up. We're going to have a little chat."


	7. Chapter 6: Connect Four

Author's Note: I'll be stepping up the updates, shorter chapters will be posted bi-weekly while longer ones will still take a week to update. Usually the updates will come during Tuesday morning US Time Zone (short chapters) and Friday evening (long chapters/2nd short chapter).

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Chapter 6: Connect Four

Bone impacted bruised flesh. Like tenderized meat pounded constantly, both of Lupus's cheek were now swollen with a purplish black discoloration. I wiped my bloodied fists against my uniform's sleeves. Lupus wheezed. Blood dripped from inside his mouth. I could only imagine that after using his face as a sandbag for the last few minutes, the inside of his mouth was cut up by his teeth. In front of him and on the floor, a few of his molars lay covered in red liquid on the floor. I crouched down. Staring at the man, I snapped my fingers in front of his face.

"Hey," I said in a loud voice, "look at me. I'm going to ask you one last time. What did you do with the people you kidnapped?"

Only the sound of his wheezing was his answer.

Then, a small chuckling escaped from his bloated lips. I watched Lupus turn to face me. His neck flopped from side to side barely able to hold up his head. From his mouth a stream of red shot at my face. Warm liquid splashed into my left cheek and helmet. _Terrible aim_ , I thought. With a sigh, I stood up. I drove my right fist deep into his side and heard the cracking of bone. An anguished weak scream escaped from his lips as I stepped back towards the bookcase covered doorway.

"Now I'll introduce you to my friend. His name is Ikeda. He's my second in command and one of two people in my group in charge of healing up the other members. He can use that knowledge to heal or hurt. It's your turn Kuebiko," I said with a nod as Ikeda pulled on black medical gloves over his reinforced combat gloves.

I watched him walk over to Lupus and unfold the medical kit strapped to his thigh. Knocking on the book case, Okuda pulled the door back as I stepped out.

"This is a nasopharyngeal tube. It's mostly used when soldiers wounded in battle are unable to breathe…" Ikeda's voice faded as the bookcase slammed shut and muffled screams emanated from behind it.

Okuda sat his weapon propped up against the wall, guarding the secret room. Kazuki was inside with Ikeda probably doing what he did best, playing good cop, bad cop. Or to be more accurate, bad cop, worst cop. Hasegawa sifted through the man's belongings with Sanada, searching for any pieces of evidence that he had concealed. Akagi had placed his rifle up against the stairs. The imperial guard was resting on the table while Akagi treated the man with first aid. His gag was left in place to prevent him from biting his tongue as Akagi pushed the needle through his knife wounds, pulling the cuts closed with the suturing kit. Ishihara took over guard duty with his M249 resting on his thigh and a lit cigarette between his lips.

With a grunt, I sat just behind Ishihara, my back slamming into the wooden wall, "you know you're not supposed to smoke in the field."

"Heh," Ishihara tittered, smoke escaping his lips as he exhaled, "I got chewed out by the maids, even some of the diplomats while smoking in my free time. I used to be able to smoke during my free time at Alnus, but everybody's a control freak in the Jade Palace."

"Don't let me stop you then," I replied with a small chuckle.

"Don't worry Captain," Ishihara breathed, "I'm only smoking since we're inside the building. I won't do it while we're out in the field."

"Anderson, Sawada," came Sawada's raspy voice on comms.

"Go for message," I swiftly replied.

"You've got a group of a dozen or two imperial guards converging on your position. Looks like the neighbors filed a noise complaint," Sawada reported as I flipped my left hand over to look at my wristwatch.

"Anderson copies, keep me updated," I murmured. "That's a bit slow. Twenty minutes?"

"Considering someone has to sprint to a guard post or run into a nearby patrol? Twenty minutes is fast," Ishihara grumbled, another cloud of smoke escaping his mouth.

Screeching from the book case made me turn my attention towards the two men. Ikeda pulled off blood soaked gloves and threw them back into the room before Okuda closed the door. Kazuki stretched, yawning as he lifted up his arms and tilted his head sideways. Akagi finished up with the imperial guard who turned out to be a centurion. Kidnapped during reposting, the centurion had gone missing weeks prior to us finding him. His convoy was ambushed and carriages destroyed by what was presumed to be a Garm. Upon discovery, broken wood and rotting flesh filled the air in what the imperial guard could only describe as death itself. The centurion was then presumed dead. Titus was his name. Tasked with the oversight of a large piece of land to the west of the Rho river, Titus was to be reassigned to the city of Telta, replacing another centurion who had died of old age.

"Form ranks!" I heard a scream from outside, the sound of clattering shields growing louder by the second.

"Kazuki," I said with a grunt as I stood up, "if you don't mind."

"Not at all, Ryu, not at all," the old man said casually.

Akagi and Kazuki grabbed Titus's arms, draping them over their necks. Ishihara pulled the butt of his cigarette from his lips and crushed the still lit filter in his hands. I strode over to the other side of the door and swung it open. Behind it, rows of men with tower shields and spears were at the ready. They hesitated for a few seconds as Akagi and Kazuki brought the hobbling man out of the house.

"Centurion Titus Nolus!" one of them yelled out in surprise.

The guards dropped their shields and spears to help a commander they presumed to be dead. A smile grew on my lips, happy that a respected soldier was returned to the Imperial Guard. Ikeda cleared his throat. I glanced towards him, the smile instantly extinguished.

We still had a job to do.

"So?" I asked, my stomach growled as the feeling of a lost appetite set in.

"He spilled the beans," sighed an exhausted Ikeda, "apparently the resistance or rebels, which ever you want to call them, has developed compartmentalization. Lupus doesn't do the kidnapping. Apparently it's a mercenary group of Warrior Bunnies who do. Then, after they get the information they write it on shipping ledgers and merchant notes with 'invisible ink.' The middle man is some trader who goes by the name of Percival. Word from Lupus is, he's currently out west trading. As for the weapons, they've been delivered while he was working. We found a crate of concealable weapons. Those weapons smuggled in in preparation for a major revolution. A large force is coming in the far east."

"Coincidence?" I asked as Ikeda shook his head.

"Not likely," Ikeda replied.

"What about Lupus?"

"Died from blood loss," Ikeda said grimly.

"Well that saves me the trouble from killing him," I grunted and glanced at Hasegawa, "Hasegawa, Sanada, get those documents bagged. It's time we leave and get back to then Jade Palace."

"Yes sir," Hasegawa replied, pulling out a plastic zip bag from her vest and dumping the papers and books into it.

We didn't stick around for much longer. Within minutes, we were out of the house and back on the road. The medical outpost had given us things to transport back to the Jade Palace but they were small little trinkets or objects in paper bags. Before we had raided the house belong to Lupus, the urine and sweat were wiped from the floors of the cart in what was two hours' worth of hard cleaning. Large amounts of air fresheners were sprayed into the interior and the cheesecloth taken down prior to our travel back.

Darkness hung over us as we exited the Akusho district. Cool air blew through the cart. The creaking resumed once again on rough roads. Horses neighed with frequent fervor after resting the most of the day. Akagi and I had packed up the gear back into its containers and stuffed wet clothes into plastic bags in our rucksacks. Akagi, Ige and I engaged in what was simple and short banter. Well, actually just Ige and I. Akagi continued to sit there with his M2010 resting against his crossed legs. After a couple minutes of monotonous exchange, the bright lights of the Jade Palace illuminated the inside of the cart like a brilliant torch. My night adjusted eyes were blinded by the intense glow.

The knights welcomed us back with the same enthusiasm they showed us when we arrived here on the first day. A team of male and female knights marched out from the tents, this time their shoulders were relaxed and their hands not on their swords. I gripped one of the ribs and made my way down from the back. My feet impacted the dirt with a crunch, my knuckles still sore from Lupus. The knights' faces lit up in slight surprise and shock. I couldn't blame them. I was bathed in blood. Blood from Lupus was dry on my helmet, the splash from the werewolf impact the ground had covered my uniform in a graffiti of brown, red and black. I could feel Panache's eyes drilling holes into the bullet resistant helmet, yet I couldn't face her. I had executed six men in cold blood and ordered the interrogation of their cell leader. But we did what we came to do. Had I thought over if my actions were right it would always be – yes.

Any doubt in my mind and it would be the death of my men, my own life I could care less about.

Hasegawa and I shuffled off into the main communications room while the rest of the men unloaded the cargo. A woman by the name of Misery had asked us to delivery unspecified cargo to Sergeant Kenzaki, the two having known each other since he was formerly stationed at the medical outpost. Ishihara would be the one delivering the package to him since Sanada was too immature to even be let in on a secret without blabbing about it the next minute. The debrief was a good part of two hours after we had arrived. Lieutenant General Hazama seemed satisfied enough. We got some actionable intel, recovered a dead commander, terminated the threat and preserved the peace.

It was a win in his book.

I would part ways with Hasegawa to take a short stop to the maids. They were ecstatic at the pocket money they had earned after we had sold large amounts of their bread and pastries. I told them not to deliver my meal tonight since I didn't have the appetite to stomach it. Even a bath wouldn't fix the funk I was in after the operation. Dropping off the requisitioned equipment at the armory, I waved goodbye to Security Team Five manning the station. Baby faced soldiers fresh from boot camp politely bowed to me in response, including their 'butter bar Lieutenant' as my father would call him.

I retreated to my room after another day in the office.

Entering the dark room, I flicked on the table light and started pulling off my uniform. Cloth stuck to me like a tape adhesive. I was frustrated at the fabric for being so hard to take off. The clothing came off and was quickly piled into a corner of the room. A mirror bolted to the front of my closet reflected my blood caked face. Droplets of darkened red had dried with the indistinguishable greenish black of the camo paste. Scars drawn like works of art across my body flexed and moved with each breath. My once young blue eyes now lacked the sheen it had, replaced with dull blue orbs with reddish tendrils growing at the corner. I couldn't stomach food despite the hunger I felt in my gut. This wasn't the first time I had killed nor would it be the last. My hands reached inside the closet and pulled out a large round bottle.

The label read – Hudson Baby Bourbon Whiskey.

It was a souvenir from my father. After traveling much of the world, this was the one drink of choice he would have in his free time. Dad would always take a sip of it after a hard day's work. He was as far from an alcoholic as he could be, rarely drinking until an occasion called for it. A hard day in the field was one of those occasions. We all had our own ways to decompress after a mission.

I stood up to grab a glass, one of four, from the top of my dresser.

 _Knock, knock, knock._

"Who is it?" I asked, sliding the glass onto the table.

A soft but commanding voice answered, "Panache Fure Kalgi."

I thought to not open the door, to turn her away while tried to decompress. There was a sigh that escaped my lips as I walked towards the door and gripped the knob. Not a single creak squeaked from the hinges of the lavishly decorated door that used to close off a storage room. Behind it, a silver haired girl that looked no older than eighteen dressed in full knight armor held a tray full of food. Bread, a slice of raw meat, cheese and porridge with a cake for dessert. I held the door open for her as she walked inside. Metal heels clicked against the stone ground, her armor clanking as she set the metal tray down on the table. Despite the slowly growing migraine, I pulled out a chair for her to sit in. I was partially relieved that the chair she sat in at least had a cushion.

"The maids told me that you told them to not deliver any food tonight," Panache said, the sound of metal clinking underneath the table.

"Yeah," I said with a quick exhale as I sat down, "I don't have much of an appetite after what we did today."

"You should eat some bread at least," her voice was hard like steel before softening seeing how much discomfort I was going through, "for me?"

I let out a long sigh, glancing up at her and then to the loaf of bread. She nodded to the raised dough. I reluctantly tore off a piece and slapped on cheese for extra measure. Panache gave me a reassuring smile, reaching into her armor to pull out what seemed to be a handkerchief. As I chewed through the fresh bread, Panache got up off of her seat and walked over to me with her handkerchief held close to her chest.

"May I?" she asked.

I nodded, swallowing the bread.

The moving dough down my throat left like rough sand being poured down my esophagus. Every chance the dough got it rubbed against the driest part of my insides. I watched Panache dipped the cloth into the water jug on the metal try. Her hand jabbed roughly at my skin like a dull knife trying to stab its target multiple times. Wincing, my head was pushed back and forth like a speed bag being hit by a boxer. I felt her hands pause. I glanced at Panache as she deftly tapped the handkerchief against my skin, trying hard not to use all of her power.

"Sorry," she snickered, "I'm not used to wiping blood off of someone else's head."

"Usually someone else doing it for you huh?" I asked, teasing her to see Panache scowling at me.

"Not always," Panache shot back as I twisted off the bourbon's bottle cap.

I poured myself a drink, chuckling to myself before saying, "I didn't imagine our first dinner going this way. Me covered in blood and you forcing me to eat food and dabbing blood from my own face."

"I'm worried about you," Panache said her hard jade eyes now gentle in the dim light, "truly."

She finished wiping the side of my face and sat down back in her cushioned seat.

"Bourbon?" I asked, lifting my glass.

"Is that alcohol? I've never really had anything but wine before," Panache murmured.

"Well, now's a good time to try isn't it?" I said, sliding her my half-filled glass as I stood up to grab another from the dresser top.

Panache took a smell of the bourbon. Her slightly damp hands swirled the bronze liquid around in the whiskey glass and winced at the biting rich oaky scent. I laughed, pouring myself another glass.

"You don't smell bourbon princess," I said raising my glass, "drinking it is how you tell its good or not. Remember to drink it one go."

I said that last line sarcastically.

"Kanpai," I said and chugged the half-filled glass.

Panache raised her glass hesitantly and titled her head back. The bronze liquid filled my mouth, biting my throat as it went down. A harsh ethanolic smell rose up my nose. I finished the bourbon with a gulp and slammed the glass onto the table. Panache sighed in unison with me. I could feel the coldish aftertaste escape my throat. The room started to rock slightly. My balance just sitting in my own seat was off. Heat shot from my stomach, warming my body instantly in the cold room. I reached for the bottle. My own hand was having trouble finding the ass end of a barn.

I was tipsy.

"That's really strong," Panache blew, the alcohol's aftertaste still in her mouth.

"Well, that's how my old Pa and I drank it," I said with a hiccup and poured us another glass, "kanpai."

Panache tilted her head back and chugged another glass.

"Wait, wait," I waved my hands, noticing my slurred speech, "you don' have ta chug eet. It waz jus a joke!"

A burst of dull pain exploded from my shin.

"Ow!" I screamed in pain, looking at Panache and her empty glass, "wat waz that for."

"Fo lyin'" Panache blurted, her face now completely red.

I filled up her glass once again and raised my glass, "ta our blossomin' relationships."

Panache raised her own glass and sipped.

I chugged my own, trying to make up for the fact that she had chugged twice in a row. I should be a man about it and chug another one. That's what I did. Pouring myself another drink, I chugged the third cup of bourbon and that's when my mind blanked out. Like a blanket of darkness, I couldn't remember a single thing. What we did after that was a blur. Bits and pieces of it I could still remember. Flashes of bare flesh of silky white with some minor scars pressed up against my own. The sensation of soft flesh resting against my arm and a foreign body entering my mouth smearing liquid along with it.

The last thing I heard was, "its gettin' hot in here isn't it Ryu~?"


	8. Chapter 7: No Rest for the Weary

Author's Note: I've decided to include a list of terminology that can't be explained within a few words at the end of the story to make sure it's more clear to the reader what those words mean. If you see those words inside the dialogue reference the bottom of the chapter.

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Chapter 7: No Rest for the Weary

I was sitting in the same cockpit of the F-2B. This time, it wasn't a dream – it was a memory. I could remember the flight clear as day. Cruising at twenty-five thousand feet in the air or angels twenty-five, the world looked like a patch of grey and green. The sea revolved slowly underneath us. A slab of reflective blue twinkling with the sun's rays. Clouds dotted the sky below, scattered like isolated cotton balls passing underneath me. I glanced to my right to see another aircraft flying in formation. The dark blue paint scheme made it nearly impossible to distinguish my wingman from the slightly curved whitish blue horizon of the Earth in the background. Second Lieutenant Shima Kenji was flying in finger-four formation in close proximity. My wingtip would go through his cockpit if I had moved slightly right. A long high-pitched beep snapped my head back to the one of the four digital displays of the F-2B. A small diamond with 15 inside it popped up on the three ringed display.

"RWR," blurted a female voice in my ears.

"Yup," I replied curtly, "Kaze, keep your eyes on the radar. I'll start the pre-engagement preparations."

"Roger," First Lieutenant Hirata 'Kaze' Yuki my Weapons Systems Officer replied.

I spoke into my mask, "Spike. Track, 278, twelve o'clock, 15."

My right hand with my thumb extending punched the air. Waving the fist back and forth three times, I watched as Kenji deftly banked right. His aircraft sailed further before leveling off to maintain formation. Combat spread. There was at least five hundred to a thousand feet of separation between us to facilitate maneuvering. My finger jabbed one of the many buttons on the MFCDs (Multi-Function Colored Display) switching from the RWR (Radar Warning Receiver) screen to the radar screen. With my finger on the throttle, my thumb moved a small hat switch to navigate a small cursor on the left screen to a small square with the line pointed down to indicate that the target was moving towards us. I flicked a selector switch next to the MFCD down from safe to training. A few seconds passed as the screen lit up with numbers across the bottom and sides. On the HUD, a square appeared. That was our target. Tagged by the IFF interrogator were two F-15DJ Kais from the 201st Tactical Fighter Squadron from Chitose Air Base in Hokkaido. On the radar screen, the squares separated to form a slightly elongated rectangle jumping closer and closer towards the bottom.

"Ryu One, lead locked. BRAA (Bearing Range Altitude Aspect) 277 for 30. Angels two-five, hot," Yuki reported as I locked onto the hostile F-15DJs.

I looked up to spot what seemed to be like two specks of dust in the vast blue of the sky.

"Tally. Ryu One commit, bandits 277 bullseye 320 for 50. Angels two-five," I stated and pushed the throttle forward.

"Ryu Two copies," I heard Kenji say in response.

The roar of the single engine dumping fuel straight into the exhaust was loud in my ears as I banked the aircraft left, placing the square at the top of the HUD. My body slumped into the left side of the cockpit with the aircraft now in a shallow dive. The horizon was now close to adjacent to the F-2B, just above the right side of the HUD's housing. My heartrate started to increase with each passing second. A smile slowly spread on my face behind the tightly strapped oxygen mask.

This was what I lived for.

"Ryu One, merged hostile Eagle!" Yuki yelled as I pulled hard on the immovable force sensing stick, "crank right Kitsune!"

A rumbling shook the aircraft, clouds of condensed vapor extended from the wings as the Mitsubishi F-2B turned in the thin atmosphere. I craned my head to look up. The strained breathing returned. _Hrgh, uh. Hrgh, uh,_ I wheezed. My own skull felt as heavy as a bowling ball, the F-15 pair now climbing straight up into the sky. I could see their one tone grey paint scheme with red roundels on their wings. Jets of flame extended from their twin engines in afterburner. The pilots were utilizing the F-15DJ's higher top speed and superior climb rate to their advantage in a high yo-yo while we circled underneath them like sharks. The two F-15s turned and banked away from each other splitting off from their formation high up in the sky. I struggled to keep track of them as they disappeared into the sun just to reappear behind me. The F-2B's engine screeched and whined, my hand constantly pulling and pushing the throttle in an attempt to control the aircraft's speed.

My heart pounded hard against my chest.

"Ryu One, engaged," I grunted between breaths as I reversed the aircraft, "Ryu Two strip! Engage second bandit banking, nine o'clock!"

"Ryu Two, stripped!" Kenji replied with a grunt.

I reversed the turn, this time banking hard left and keeping my nose pointed down to gain speed. A slow jet is a dead jet. Yuki and I tumbled downwards in a spiraling tight turn, the aircraft resumed shuddering under the strain. I glanced behind me to see the F-15 coming off of his climb and entering a dive behind us. I watched Kenji bank his F-2B. His jet's light blue underbelly showed and quickly disappearing into the vast expanse of the sky to chase after the second Eagle. Yuki's head bobbed left and right with her hand on the canopy, trying to get a visual on the fighter jet darting down towards us with his afterburners off. I could read the fighter pilot in the F-15 like a boxer telegraphing tells. He was about to initiate a rolling scissors, bleeding speed in an attempt to get behind us by using the F-15's more powerful engines to gain an edge. But, the pilot had underestimated the agile F-2B. I was nearing the completion of the turn when the F-15 decided against the rolling scissors, pulled out of the dive, leveled out and relit the afterburners to gain speed and distance.

"He's extending!" Yuki screamed as stopped the turn and leveled out to chase him, placing my aircraft in a shallow climb.

"Yep! Yeah! I see him!" I yelled in reply, pushing my butt off the seat to see the F-15DJ just below the HUD of my aircraft nearly engulfed by the gray nose.

"Two, defensive bullseye 318 for 53!" grunted Kenji in my ears, he had the other Eagle was on his tail.

I slammed the throttle forward.

The engine roared into afterburner.

The air speed indicator slowly ticked up by the second. Three hundred fifty knots, three seventy, three ninety the speed tape flew. At four hundred and thirty knots, I pulled lightly on the stick. The sea slowly disappeared below me. Blue skies of space and air replaced the ocean until I was perpendicular to the Earth. I felt my body being pushed back into the seat. It was like another person was sitting on top of me. In front of me was deep blue like an expanse of space and sky, behind me was the Earth and flowing sea. The weight pushing me back into the seat mattered no longer. I was falling into the great beyond. I was elated floating in my cockpit.

Yuki snapped me out of my trance.

"Bandit's chasing after us," Yuki reported as I glanced back to see the F-15 pulling hard up towards us.

Clouds of water vapor formed on their wings from the arduous maneuver bleeding off air speed. This was a gamble, going straight up would turn us into a sitting duck. I still had room to wiggle as my airspeed plummeted despite the Viper Zero being in full afterburner. My feet paddled the rudders while my right hand jostled the joy stick. I could feel the shuddering of the aircraft as we lost speed, waddling like a penguin in the air. The F-15DJ was heavier despite it being more powerful, it was sure to lose energy faster after bleeding most of its air speed. My eyes were glued to the air speed tape – two hundred and forty. We now gracing just shy of twenty-eight thousand feet. I could see the contrails of intercontinental flights not far above us, the passengers oblivious to the dueling fighter jets just thousands of feet below.

That's when I heard Yuki say, "here they come."

I glanced up.

Grey metal came into view as the larger F-15DJ soared to meet us, unable to get a kill from the jiggling I was doing. They were just a couple dozen meters away from us, not enough to be in danger if the two aircraft were to tumble from the sky. Time seemed to slow as the two helmeted heads slowly turned to face us. I could see them in their cockpits. Two men or women clothed in green flight suits with their helmet's black sun visor down. I could even read the words on their helmets. Kamikoda and Kurihama written in stylized English text on their helmets. The pilot and weapon systems officer raised their hands at half speed, their thumb and pinky extended before rotating them slightly.

And just like that, time resumed.

The Eagle shot past us before slowly down just as we had. A series of quick, high pitched beeps made me glance at the speed tape. One hundred and eighty knots – stall speed. I pushed hard on the stick and pressed a button on the throttle. Two lines forming a funnel and a line with a small cross in the middle popped up. A computerized female voice yelled, 'lock!' as a diamond hovered over the F-15DJ Kai. The F-2B was sluggish in response as it continued to bleed off airspeed. I nudged the nose up slightly and found the circle in the funnel lining up with the Eagle. I held it there for two seconds. Two seconds felt like two minutes as I squeezed the trigger.

Instead of a satisfying beep, a female moan escaped.

I gripped the joystick tight. And instead of it being a solid piece of metal, it felt like soft pliable flesh.

Something was wrong.

My eyes snapped open to a familiar white stone ceiling.

Quivering eyes slowly glanced left, my eyes met the emerald ones of the White Rose. A scream of shock followed by the pounding headache pushed me off the bed and onto the stone floor with a fleshy thud. My eyes traveled down to see my bare body as Panache snatched up the blanket in front of her. We were both in the nude. My head snapped at the digital clock sitting on my dresser. The time mercilessly flashed 07:26, two hours after I was supposed to wake up. On the table sat an almost empty

I scrambled to my feet and threw open the closet door. The familiar sensation of stinging in my stomach did little to deter me as I slipped on my boxers and trousers. Anything to get out of the suffocating awkwardness of the room would do. Slipping on the multicam shirt and a gray beanie, I slowly approached the door. The door swung open silently without so much of a creak from being well maintained. I glanced right down the hallway to find it completely empty. Hopefully the security team on station wouldn't run into either of us.

I closed the door and turned back to see Panache still in bed with the blanket pulled up to her chest.

"I'm going to go out first okay?" I whispered for no apparent reason.

She nodded blankly, I could see that she was still trying to process what was happening.

Sneaking out the door, I turned around to gently close the door. I jumped when a weight landed on my neck. My head slowly turned to face the man. A beaming Okuda grinned widely at me. His happy go-lucky face soothed my already frazzled mind. I sighed in relief, glad it was him and none of the other team members. Okuda laughed as he pulled my weak and hungover body into the hallway. I sluggishly followed the older man. Even if I fought against him, I would have lost. Okuda, while older, was much stronger and hardy that I ever could be.

"You finally did it didn't you?" Okuda grunted with my head in a headlock.

"Did what?" I grumbled, rubbing my face as Okuda released me from his grip.

"Get the White Rose drunk and bed her," Okuda replied.

"Drunk – yes, bed…I don't think so?" I muttered back, that last part I couldn't remember.

"You don't need to me to tell you about the under aged drinking laws," Okuda's friendly demeanor turned serious.

"Isn't she over twenty-one?" I asked, holding my head, "I swear, most of the women here look younger than they are."

"Nope, nineteen. I had time to chat with some of the knights and she's definitely nineteen," Okuda grunted, I felt like I was getting lectured by the Sergeant Major, "ah whatever, it's your problem to deal not mine. Ah youth…maybe I should do something for my wife when I get back."

Okuda laughed and continued down the stairs as I followed him down into the DFAC.

The DFAC itself was installed to be a tandem-use area for both break time and dining by all staff. Knights, maids and soldiers along with the imperial footman dined and took breaks together. Metal dining tables and metal chairs were already filled in two rows. A total of eight tables were placed in the DFAC. The female knights sat with the elder male knights beside Susanowo. Just to the side of Susanowo were the maids and the staff. The Imperial footmen lounged comfortably on the same metal table behind. Two of the security teams were leaned back on the sofas and couches set up on the other half of the room, all crowding around the television screen with Japanese game shows rerunning on the network. Behind them were another set of knights reading what seemed to be BL novels translated by none other than the empress herself.

I pulled out one of the seats remaining at the table where my team sat and plopped down.

"Rough night?" Ikeda asked, not batting an eye while he read the newspaper.

"You could say that," I grumbled back, "had a bit much to drink last night."

"Well," Ikeda said as he slammed a manila file on the table, "here's something to sober you up."

I opened the folder. Inside, was the same face I saw on one of the playing cards. Two of spades, Merchant Quintus Celer. Suspected of smuggling in weapons, Quintus Celer supplied the resistance with both money and arms. Using his famous name as a slave trader, Quintus often sold exquisite slaves in terms of the highly sought after warrior bunnies, sirens, medusae and draconians from faraway lands. In the files, there was a note saying that he was also suspected as being one of the many high ranking officials who were couriers for orders from the resistance in the far west where the majority of the leadership quietly hid until the time was right. Our role was to eliminate the merchant while assassins from the Order of the Rose dispatched the rest of his protection with our support. Our second objective was the messages he carried to and from the far west.

A large red stamp was marked clearly on the last page – Terminate.

"It says here he's expected on this route by 0900 – 1100 on Wednesday?" I asked, rubbing the bridge of my nose, "that's our shift duty as well."

"We won't need to take all of the team," Sawada replied as he looked up from the manga he was reading 'Monster Musume no Iru Nichijou', "Akagi, Lietueant Ikeda, you and I can go. Sergeant First Class will be in charge of the security here while we're away."

"Everyone good with that?" I asked, closing the file as everyone nodded, "there's another matter, if we're going to be assigned to the Ashigara we're going to need a common weapons cartridge. If we're stuck on an island, mountain, jungle or wherever, we're not going to survive with a bullets that not everyone can use. So I'm going to give everyone except for Akagi, Ishihara, Sanada and Sawada a choice. All of those who want to be issued SCARs, raise your hand."

No one raised their hands except for Okuda and I.

"Well I guess we'll just stick with our weapons then," I grunted, "HK417s?"

Ikeda, Ige and Kazuki raised theirs as well as Hasegawa who sat quietly, tapping away on her smartphone.

"You don't count Hasegawa," I sighed, penning down the names.

"Aw," she pouted, "I don't get to come along too?"

"Not unless you get permanently assigned to us no," I grunted before turning back to the men, "HK417's assault variant too I assume…I'll have to get everyone PMags as well."

"Mendokusai (what a pain)," I muttered with annoyance and glanced over to Ishihara and Sanada, "what about you two? Sumitomo or Mark 48s?"

"That's the one your father used right, Captain?" Sanada asked, chewing on a sandwich.

"Yes," I grumbled back.

"We'll have that right 'Michi?" Sanada asked Ishihara, using his nickname.

Ishihara nodded silently, he too was tapping on his phone.

"Great!" I yelled, stretching and standing up, "I'll meet you at the back of the Palace for some PT (Physical Training). Change into full kit with standard thirty-day field gear. And especially you, Sanada, you're going to get _**smoked**_."

* * *

Spike: RWR indication of an AI threat in track, launch, or unknown mode; include bearing, clock position and threat type if known.

Tally: Sightning of target or bandit.

Bullseye: An established point from which the position of object can be referenced; made by cardinal/range or digital format.

Merge: Information that friendlies and targets have arrived in the same visual arena.

Crank: To maneuver beyond the range of a missile's gimbal limits.

Strip/Stripped: Individual fighter/section is leaving the formation to pursue separate attacks. Informative call from wingman/element indicated out of briefed formation/position.

Extend: Short-term maneuver to gain energy, distance or separation; normally with the intent of re-engaging.

Defensive: Aircraft is in a defensive position and maneuvering with reference to an active threat.


	9. Chapter 8: Flow Like the River

Chapter 8: Flow Like the River

"Target three four two meters and slowly closing. Wind eight kilometers per hour, one-fourth value," I muttered glancing from the rifle scope down to my notepad paper filled with numbers and scratched out calculations, "dial in two point four MOA left for windage."

A series of clicks were the reply from Akagi as his gloved right hand with his index finger cut out twisted the MOA adjustments dials on the scope. I looked back through the magnified optic. In the dimming light, the intelligence was correct about a roving convoy coming. But it was at the tail end of the day when the light was starting to disappear from the blue skies. Rolling hills and gently swaying trees were a constant challenge to observe for in the low light. I felt a gentle breeze brush past my face. Like flowing water currents, wind could be visualized like flowing rivers of air surging over rises and flooding down into the dips. Winds crossed into each other to form new streams of powerful up and down drafts from all around much like the water of rivers, lakes and streams. Visualizing the wind clearly in my mind, I watched the grass flatten and dance in the breeze, the tree branches shaking gently and the canvas on the arriving carriages fluttering gently against their wooden ribs.

One miscalculation could send a bullet inches off target.

Aim small, miss small.

"Two point two MOA right for windage," whispered Ikeda on the radio, the throat microphone picking up his voice.

"Dialed in," Sawada murmured back.

Akagi placed his right hand on the rifle's trigger, his index finger barely just touching the trigger as I flicked the fire selector on the newly requisitioned Mark 20 Sniper Support System. Two of the SCAR variant rifles were ordered from FN Herstel since I had noticed a lot more of our time being spent on long-range reconnaissance and high value target elimination missions. While great, the HK417s issued by the armory had problems with rezeroing and poor user ergonomics. Apart from having a telescopic buttstock, that was it as far as user comfort. Being a standard issue weapon, it didn't leave a lot of room for user customization either.

What you got is what you used.

I sighed, exhaling for a cleansing breath. The Mark 20 was painted in shades of green, brown and tan mimicking the multicam that we usually wore on missions. My thumb flicked the fire selector from S to the reddened F with a satisfying click. Through the NightForce NXS scope, I twisted a knob on the left to find the barely visible black reticule lines light up in a soft, glowing red in the rapidly receding light. Both Akagi and I were using soft point ammunition. Similar to hollow points, the soft point bullets had a ballistic cap that disintegrated upon impact. The dangers of over penetration were large since our target was a slave trader. Without a backstop sturdy enough to stop a .300 WinMag, the heavy sniper bullet would pierce the target and continue travel through anything it encountered. Wood was a nonissue for the soft point bullets.

As the convoy of carts and carriages drew closer, I scanned the length of the traveling carts to find a man sitting inside a wooden compartment. I could barely see him let alone make out his features. He was at acute angle towards us. If it were not for the rocking of the cart moving him in his seat, all we could have seen was the back of his head. On his head was a black beret with a white feather hanging off. A lavish and puffy fur scarf protected his neck from the chilling temperatures of the coming night. Inside the carriage was another warrior rabbit. I could see a chained collar on her neck. Her left ear was cut off. A saddened and resigned look was etched on her face as the convoy slowly came into range. Her black hair was scraggily. It seemed like she hasn't washed in a number of days. The slave wore a burlap sack that seemed just enough to cover her from the elements while spots of dried liquid covered the fabric.

Warrior rabbits and cat people were chained up to the front and rear of each cart like sentient watch dogs. Favored for their heightened sense of smell and hearing, they were often used as forward guards to safeguard against any trespassers. Ten carts trundled down the dirt road. Four of the carts were filled with boxes while two were packed full of sobbing slaves, most of which were female. One cart held the male slaves and the other housed whom I thought was Quintus. At least two to four guards and mercenaries rode on each cart, with another dozen or two resting in two carts at the front and rear of the convoy.

"Assassin Two, green," whispered Ikeda in my ear.

Peering through my scope, I watched the man's head bob up and down, partially obscured by the carriage's windowed frame.

"Assassin One, yellow," I murmured into the voice activated throat mic, "Assassin Two, PID (Positive Identification)?"

"Confirmed PID on Two of Hearts," Ikeda whispered confidently back.

"You have the shot Akagi?" I asked as the police sniper.

"My target's the second plank from the left, right at the target's chest level," breathed Akagi as he slowly nodded.

"I've got the target's tip of the ear," Sawada murmured.

The convoy continued to roll down the road oblivious to us. They were now crossing the two hundred and fifty-meter mark on our ranging charts. I heard the clicks from Akagi as he adjusted his scope for what seemed to be one last time. My right eye was glued to the scope while the other kept track on the Kestrel 5000 used to measure the wind. Ebbs and flow of the wind continued to make the Kestrel's reading fluctuate very slightly. The readings dipped and rose by each passing second.

But this was a good a shot as any.

"Fire on my mark," I muttered, hearing the click of Akagi's rifle going from safe to fire, "three…two…one…"

The grass around the road became still. Wind from our position picked up, increasing to ten kilometers per hour. Grass trimmed just in front of our barrels swayed with the sudden increase in speed. Different streams of wind flowed between us and the road the convoy was on. I could hear the slow exhale from Akagi, the slight rustle of his ghille suit from adjusting. The slave bunny sitting with her head drooped down in the merchant's carriage turned to look towards us.

Her ear twitched from activity.

It was too late.

"Send it."

 _Thwack!_

 _One day earlier…_

"You're kidding me," I grunted, my hand sliding down my face.

"I'm from HALO platoon not mountain warfare," Ikeda replied nonchalantly.

"I just go to the scenes with squad cars," muttered Akagi.

My eyes glanced over to Sawada who shrugged, "I know how to ride."

The four of us stood over two Honda XLR250Ls. My initial plan was to ride out on standard issue XLR250Ls but since Akagi and Ikeda were unable to ride motorcycles, we had to strip most of the equipment storage away. With some duct tape and ropes, we jury rigged extra cushions onto the rear. A deadly flaw was our already insanely inflated packs that threatened to burst. But luckily, the assassins from the Order of the Rose road on horses that were able to handle the extra weight. The downside was we had to wait at least four to five hours for the horses to arrive, the gear we would be carry would be the absolute bare minimum. Our rifles, some food and water, a sleeping bag, ammunition and our ghille suits were all we could fit on the little space we had left. Despite all the training we did with the other special forces, none of them were with motorcycles. Lightweight desert patrol vehicles but none were two-wheeled transports.

"We'll go ahead of you Captain Anderson," reported Merrill, a female cat girl dressed in dark leather armor with a hood over her head.

"We'll catch up to you Merrill. Sorry for troubling you by having you carry most of our stuff," I replied with a nod.

"Don't worry about it Captain. At the end of the day, our mission is still the same," Merrill murmured softly as she dug her boots into the side of her horse.

Merrill was an associate close to the Order of the Rose. Friends of Shandy, the two met while Shandy was on one of her missions to assassinate one of the pro-war senators turned war lords in the east of the Empire. Both Merrill and Shandy had the same quarry for two different employers. The two challenged each other to a contest. The best assassin wins and takes home the reward of the kill. Shandy bested the cat girl going as far to ask her to join Shandy in service for the Order of the Rose with better pay. Merrill took her offer and joined with her own band of killers for hire. She was one of six assassins assigned to us for the duration of the mission. Soft-spoken, reserved and guarded, it was hard to get a read on the girl. Even she gave Akagi a run for his money in terms of personality.

"Get on," I sighed, waving the two onto the motorcycles.

Sawada and I mounted the Honda dirt bikes. I felt the heavy weight of Akagi, our two rucksacks were both on his front and back. The two rifles rested against two equipment racks mounted at the rear of the motorcycle. Tied with climbing rope, I had wrapped each of the weapons in camouflage netting in an attempt to protect them from the rattling the rough road would cause. It also provided us with extra camouflage for our hide if we ever needed it.

I kicked down hard on the kick starter. Two kicks were all it needed to bring the 249cc engine sputtering to life. The engine purred rhythmically like a quick beating heart. I could feel the undulation of the motorcycle throughout my body. Desert goggles covered my eyes protecting it from wind and dust. Glancing back, I watched Akagi wait with a stoic expression. His goggles pushed into his face and the lightweight ballistic helmet he wore had pieces of his long hair sticking through the ventilation holes. Sawada gave me a thumbs-up, revving his motorcycle to signal that he was ready.

"Assassin, radio check," I ordered, squeezing the transmit switch clipped to my load bearing vest.

"Two, five by five," Ikeda answered from behind Sawada.

"Three, five by five."

"Four, loud and clear," muttered Akagi, his voice barely audible over the radio.

"Assassin, Home Base," I stated, twisting the throttle to feel and hear the engine rumbling loudly.

"Home Base, go for message," Hasegawa's voice answered.

"Assassin departing Jade Palace to the northwest AO (Area of Operations)," I reported.

"Roger that Assassin," Hasegawa replied, "Godspeed and good luck. Home Base out."

Raising my hand, I waved Sawada onwards and gunned the engine. The exhaust barked with renewed vigor. Akagi and I lurched forward. Dirt splattered on my leg as we took off, my right hand twisting the throttle aggressively to keep the engine from stalling and keep the XLR250L going. Cool winds slapped at my face as we shot out the gate at speed. My cheeks started to become numb. It didn't take long before we caught up with Merrill and her crew. Powerful twin-stroke engines outpaced the horses that they rode on. We were headed for the northwest of Sadera, a region filled with roads that cut through a dense forest. West of the forests were mountains and west of the mountains was the city of mages and wizards. Sawada and I pulled up alongside Merrill. The tanned cat girl glanced over to us.

I gave her a two fingered salute and said, "we're going ahead of you Merrill!"

A light piece of tannish cloth rustled as I could see her scoff behind it.

I gunned the throttle. Horses neighed in fear as the XLR250L's engine barked loudly. The front wheel of the motorcycle was slowly rising up as I relaxed the throttle slightly in an attempt to control the dirt bike. Akagi's hands gripped tight around my waist. Laughing, I waved Sawada onwards. The former figma sculpture was also enjoying the ride across the country side. Sawada twisted his throttle making the exhaust burp and bark with a large smile on his face.

Flat plains and gently rolling hills slowly flattened and dipped into a wide river. A stone bridge was all that connected one bank of the Rho river to the other. Carts and traveling foot merchants covered the entirety of the stone bridge with Imperial Army guards checking the papers of the incoming travelers. We blasted past the guards, revving our engines to warn the footman with their backs turned to us. Bewildered, they staggered back as we sliced through the entire of the stone bridge between the invisible dividing lane. While travelers and their carts were many, the bridge wasn't packed by any means. There was ample space for Sawada and I to maneuver between the children pointing in amazement, the adults looking on and the elder's yell of surprise at a motorized two wheeled vehicle speeding faster than a horse would gallop.

It would be just a mere two hours before we came to a stop at the top of a raised hill.

A road led out from the forest far in the distance before gently curving right in front of us. Another curve left pointed the trail around the hill and towards the bridge connecting one bank to another. Trees were few and far between rolling hills that slowly flattened to the beginnings of a forest. Two gently slopped hills flanked the left of the trail while one large knoll bordered the right. Bushes grew in splotches closer towards the road, up on the hill and in the troughs, providing excellent cover. Akagi and I would take the left side of the road while Sawada and Ikeda took the right. Depending on different times of day, the two of us would have to move to position the sun away from our eyes.

The four of us sat down to enjoy the view, well three of us did anyway. Ikeda was far too busy unfolding the morning newspaper he snatched from the DFAC on the way out. We leaned back on our rucksack after laying down our motorcycles to reduce our silhouette against the sun despite being ten or so meters down from the hill top. The forest extended as far as the eye can see with distant mountain ranges poking up from the horizon like faded blue jagged rocks. To our right, a set of three mountains were far closer and consumed most of the sky with their green base and brown rocky tops.

I cradled my rifle on my thighs. The seven kilogram full loaded and kitted out designated marksman rifle felt like a solid lump of plastic pressing down on my clothes and skin. A pulsing pain started to throb from my shin and thigh. Quietly, I tried to knead the muscle but the rustling of cloth caught the attention of both Akagi and Sawada while Ikeda remained stoic.

"Still hurting Captain?" Sawada asked, the sun light warm against our skin.

"Nah," I grunted, trying to force the pain into the back of my head, "just phantom pains. The doc said that its healed but it sure doesn't feel like it."

"You should retire and go into the work force," Ikeda muttered from behind his newspaper.

"I'm not like you Ikeda," I sighed, "my family isn't that wealthy. My mother, father and I still have to raise two more siblings. All I know is how to fight and only degree I have is in aeronautics engineering for multi-crew."

"Then become an airliner pilot," Ikeda stated bluntly.

"I don't think I'm going to fly ever again after the Viper Zero. I'll think of something," I grunted back.

"You always do," Ikeda said, glancing at me with a small smile from the corner of his eye.

"Right let's make sure our maps are right," I groaned and pulled out a small laminated piece of paper from my load bearing vest.

There was a labored sigh that escaped both Akagi's and Sawada's lips. They were right to sigh as the laminated map was a few fir tree symbols with small dotted lines for the forests and the dotted lines were roads. A couple of mounds drawn far to the left were mountains which hid the cities of Rondel and Bellnahgo. It was a map that lacked details except for the most simple and obvious of things. Even the roads might have not been drawn in if Itami hadn't head this way on his escort of Lelei. Our art skills came into use as the four of us removed the bulky laser rangefinder from our packs. Hills were drawn in, small lone trees, rocks and bushes were recorded at precise ranges in a three hundred and sixty-degree direction.

"We'll split up in the groups we came in on," I grunted after finishing my sketch of the area on my small record book and map, "we have the only two guys who can ride bikes and we can't have _all_ of them riding on one."

Ikeda shot me a glare as I grinned happily at my 2IC (2nd In Command).

"We'll meet up at grids 13 Charlie, keypad 4 once we're done for lunch then," Sawada said looking at the map's basic grid system before sighing, "I miss the UTM (Universal Transverse Mercator coordinate system) map system and GPS."

"That's why they teach us all this in sniper school," I said with a small smile and smacked Sawada's chest with the folded up map, "so we can do all this without modern technology."

"But it was so much easier in Japan…" Sawada groaned as I marched off with Akagi.

Akagi hopped onto the back with a sigh as I kick started the engine. We sped towards the forest, closing with the tree line from the hills behind us. I brought the motorcycle to a screeching halt just two hundred to three hundred meters from the gentle curve light in the road and laid the Honda on the ground. Pulling the camouflage tarp wrapped around the two rifles over the XLR250L, Akagi and I went about to create our first hide. The first spot was chosen not far from the tree line just twenty meters up the hill with a natural dip covered by two trees and overgrown brush. We hacked away with our combat knives at the thin brushes creating a small hole for the both of us centimeters into the moderately large greenery. Our barrels wouldn't actually poke out the front, it would stay behind the leaves and branches to mask muzzle flare and reduce the evidence of muzzle flash. Leaves and branches were carefully clipped by our multi-tools to allow our barrel and optics to look outwards but remain inconspicuous to prying eyes.

Sweat dripped from our brow as the sun coasted towards its mid-point in the sky. A slightly colder than average breeze brushed past us, rippling the grass like waves of water splashing over invisible rocks. I paused to look at the brightly lit green of the plains and the dark emeralds of the forest trees bristling in the gentle wind. A lungful of cool air reminded me of the discrepancy of the Mediterranean winter of Falmart and the beginning of the Japanese fall. With our first hide finished, we set up range cards for the location with detailed sketches of the environment to help us quickly reference distances while in engagement.

Sounds of heavy hooves smashing into the dirt snapped me out of the monotonous work.

I dropped to the ground, turning around to face the origin of the sound and lifted up the Mark 20 to rest on my stomach. Through my spread legs, the optics revealed a group of cloaked riders with hoods and balaclavas covering their faces. Were it not for the large multicam rucksack and rolled up pieces of foam hanging from the horses' sides, we would have shot them if they came too close for comfort. I placed my rifle back down and pushed myself out from the thick brush. Placing my fingers into my mouth, I let out a loud whistle that caught the attention of the riders.

A silhouette popped out from the other side of the road. Had the tall grass the dead trunk of a fallen tree not been there, I would have spotted Akagi and Sawada as the two emerged from a slight depression in the ground. It seemed like they were finished with their own hides. I could see one of them waving both hands in the air. I waved back and turned to Akagi. Tapping on the police sniper, the two of us slung our rifles over our shoulders and began walking the long five hundred meters towards the horse riders. We would reach Merrill and her group after minutes of brisk walking through plains. Strangely enough, only three or so trade caravans creaked through the trail. The marks of the wooden wheels were deep in the dirt and foot marks smoothed over by dozens of others as the horses neighed in the warm noon sun.

"Thanks for the assist," I grunted, lifting the larger multicam rucksack mean to go on the motorcycles, "we'll relocate for lunch if you want to join us."

Merrill simply nodded in agreement.

"Let's go then," I grumbled and started walking towards the three ominous mountains to our north.

While Merrill's horses sauntered along at a leisurely pace, the four of us panted from the effort of just walking. The rucksack we had packed were heavy bordering on unbearable. Jam packed with equipment, provisions for extended time on station and extra ammunition, each foot fall made my leg sag into the grassland. All ten of us came to a stop in a nearby shade of a tree behind the hill and away from the roads. We set out packs down, propped up against the trees. We pulled out drab green plastic bags from the multicam pack. The ten of us sat down in a circle under the dark shade and cool winds. I watched as the assassins pulled out bread, jerky and a water skin from their horse's pack. Merrill pulled down her scarf and pit into the rock hard loaf. She didn't take off her cloak but I could see the sweat glistening on her tanned skin.

"Aren't you hot under the cloak?" I asked, moving my left hand towards her face.

Merrill recoiled as my hand touched her hood, the fabric sliding down from her curled cat ears. Her left hand I saw a blade extending from inside the cloak. The hidden dagger flipped around her pinky with the point aimed straight towards me. Whether it was luck or skill I could not tell you to this day but my hand instantly snapped upwards. The dagger impacted the metal spoon with a loud _tink_ as I glanced at the dented spoon. A sigh of relief and disappointment followed. The dagger had produced a small indentation in my only decent utensil. Behind the hood, Merrill's face was burned slightly on her left side. Rough skin along with claw marks that extended from her forehead went all the way back towards her right ear. There were nicks in her cat ears as the flesh was missing and her ear flopped lazily against the gentlest of winds.

"Yare yare," I sighed, "I'm sorry for the sudden motion but you didn't have to dent my spork."

There was a tension in the air as I watch her other members glare at me from beneath their own hoods. Merrill's own piercing yellow eyes cutting into me. She slowly slipped her dagger back into the cloak and tugged the hood back on to hid her face. Steam rose from the small hole in the green bag. I pulled out the heated packs from the bag and placed them in front of me in the grass.

"Ikeda?" I called, ripping the plastic packs.

"Hmm…?" the lieutenant replied as he shoved the white rice into his mouth with steel chopsticks.

"We have enough food in our packs?" I asked.

"For a week at least," he answered as his eyes narrowed, "why?"

Without even replying, I grabbed my pack and Ikeda's. I tore open the packs and pulled out six green bags. Tossing it to the quiet and cloaked members of the group, I watched them catch the packets without even looking up with an inhuman reaction speed. Even with guns, I would not want to mess with any of them. I instructed the quiet and reserved six assassins on how to cook the MREs. They tore open the packs, poured the measured waters into the chemical heater and waited. Those minutes were utter torture as no one uttered a word. The usually easy-going Sawada was tense. He hugged his M2010 with tense reservation, his quivering eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses as he scanned each of the six. When the time was up, they hesitantly tore open the packs of rice and main course meals. I watched Merrill intently as she stuck the plastic fork into the yellowish bag to retrieve a lump of meat and brownish sauce.

Vienna sausage curry.

I instantly recognized the consistency and the existence of a piece of sausage. She placed the spork in her mouth, chewed and then swallowed after a few seconds. There was a breath of satisfaction. Her tail shot straight up, swing gracefully from side to side before curling around her crossed legs. I could see that there were also scratch marks on her tail with pieces of missing fur. The other five tore into the meal, some gobbled down the rice and meats while others took the time to savor each bite. Merrill plunged her spork into the yellow bag again and dragged the contents on the rice before spooning the food into her mouth.

There was a small purr from her as she breathed, "delicious…"

A smile spread on my face as I leaned back against the heavy rucksack.

We rested for thirty minutes or an hour, I didn't keep track. Sawada started to pick conversations with the cloaked assassins. Three of them opening up after having a fantastic meal by their standard. Hot, tasty and fulfilling with every bite compared to their bread and jerky, the were relaxed enough that Sawada held a decent conversation. Of the six members, two were male while the rest of females. This made it easy for the members to blend in and get close with targets of both genders. They were all different species, a werewolf, elf, medusae, cat people, bunny warrior and a human made up the group. All of them had backgrounds either as slaves, prostitutes, gladiators or disgraced warriors. As far as work went, the order paid highly for their services from information to assassination.

Anything went in the era.

Akagi, Ikeda, Sawada and I went back to work after telling the hired assassins where they were to lie in wait. The signal would be our combined sniper fire which was to be very distinct in the upcoming day. The four of us would disappear back into the rolling hills and vegetation to work on our two other hides. One was set below a low hanging tree. Tree steps were installed to allow the two of us to climb into the tree itself and mount our rifles on the branches of the tree while being hidden inside. Branches and leaves were snipped in certain places once again for us to look out and fire. We'd test the camouflage to see if it was effective on passing caravans. None of the merchants and travelers ever noticed us in the trees as we stared at them from afar able to reach out and touch them. Faces of kids, adults and elders on the trails were crystal clear in our optics.

As the day started to end and the skies became dark, we started on our third hide. The furthest one away from the forest trail at four hundred and sixty-three meters lazed, the hide was also the simplest. Between two hills, we hid at the edges of the tall grass with our ghille suits stuffed with similar foliage. Tops of the blades of grass would be clipped to provide extra vision on the road. But each blade of grass would be pruned at random to dissimilar lengths, enough for us to see through but not too much that there would be a noticeable difference. Bands of grass were strapped to our rifles to provide extra cover to blend with the foreground. A shallow upwards slope rose towards the main road in a closed depression with passing caravans and their occupants visible while the lower body of walking nomads were obscured.

We pulled out the ghille suit made out of an old flight suit. Conditioned in the swamps of Camp Lejeune from the nastiest bogs and swamps, the ghille suit produced a rancid odor as we pulled on the full body suit. A veil extended past our necks to cover the scope in an uninterrupted and smooth flow of head to scope. Our faces were quickly painted with the same ghost face technique in colors of just bright greens and dark greens to blend in with the grassland. Chemical mace was sprayed around our three hides as we repositioned towards our first position to deter any fauna curious enough to come along to investigate us while we were lying in wait. Luminous strips at the rear of our veils provided identification within twenty feet. If we were close enough to each other, the two luminous strips were separate but as we started straying far away, they would blend together into one long strip. That would tell us when we had to close the distance.

"Akagi," I grunted slowly stalking towards the first site by the tree line, "you good with taking the watch in six hour shifts?"

The younger man nodded, the luminous cat strips on the back of his ghille suit shimmering with the movement from the low moonlight and scattered clouds.

The two of us made sure to move slow and low. Sound traveled farther in the cool of night. Our gear was taped, tied and wrapped to prevent the banging of metal from escaping too far into the night. Both our heavy packs sat in camouflaged netting at the third hide used for daytime sniping. Time seemed to pass quickly with the clouds traveling at unnaturally fast speeds above us. Moonlight constantly shifted with the deceptively fast nimbuses, further distorting our sense of time. Night seemed to drag on into eternity as we finally laid on our bellies, pulling our bodies along the ground in a skull drag into the formation of bushes where we had set-up our first hide.

"Alright," I grumbled, taking off my helmet and headset, and jammed an earpiece along with strapping a microphone around my throat, "oyasumi (Good night)."

"Oyasumi Captain," Akagi muttered back with his right eye fixed behind his magnified optic.

I rolled over, pulling the veil over my face and stared through the mesh of pungent dark green cloth strips. The sky was barely visible through the strips of dark cloth and branches overhead. Quivering moonbeams shined through the dense brush as it rustled in the gentle wind. Warmth from the thick material of the suit protected me against the cold, nipping night air of the Special Region. Minutes would pass by slowly before I was lulled into a sleep by the rustling of the leaves and the sound of night. Hoots and chirps sent me into a trance with heavy eyelids eventually closing.

I fell into a vivid dream, disappearing from one world into another.

A splash of liquid flooded my face as my abs contracted to forcefully keep my head out of the water. My entire body was drenched. Fabric and gear strapped to my body felt like another man was sitting on my torso. It was hell on Earth. Loud sounds of rapid firing M249s rang in my ear. My rifle pushed down on my body, my shoulder digging into the gravel filled water pit below me to move. Burning limbs and lungs rippled with pain each time I moved. A jabbing spike was slowly being pushed into my calves and thighs in explosive agony. Above the pit, a man dressed in old tri-color US Army trousers, a black tee and a cap with the words Special Forces Group embroidered in gold yelled at me. I could see his spit spilling out his mouth from the ferocity of his yells as I continued to move through the jagged muck.

I would sooner die than quit.

"Let's go cadet!" screamed the instructor, "are you going to let your team down? You're the platoon leader for crying out loud!"

"No Sergeant!" I yelled back, screaming with renewed energy with barb wires just centimeters above my face.

I pushed the rifle up to lift up the wire with the exit just a more steps away. I was one of six officers who were selected men to go through the Q Course for selection. Four of the six officers had quit and more than two-thirds of the one hundred and eighty odd men had dropped out from the nearly complete course. This was to be one of the last few training courses before the final exam. I pulled myself out from the muddy waters and staggered onto dry land. My legs burned, my arms were tired and my lungs craved for air. Sleep weighed heavy on my shoulders, my eyelids heavy with sleep deprivation. Another recruit was crouched just a few steps in front of me. A mix of greenish sludge and yellow viscous liquid was ejected from his mouth along with sickening retching sounds escaped from his throat while an instructor screamed at him.

"Let's go Recruit! Are you going to quit now? Should I just give you some tea and call it a day recruit?!" the instructor taunted him, Yamashiro slamming his rifle into the ground in an attempt to stand.

"No sir!" he retched in reply.

There was a pause as the instructor pointed his finger at Yamashiro, "bang! Now you're injured! Carry him Cadet Anderson!"

"Sir yes sir!" I replied, stumbling towards Yamashiro.

"Sorry Anderson," muttered Yamashiro as I pulled his arms over my neck.

"Make it up to me in the exam by passing Yamashiro!" I grunted with a scream as I carried the soldier with his gear and rifle in a fireman carry.

"Now march!" the instructor bellowed, my feet sagging from the combined weight of two men.

It was another kind of hell. My legs burned with each step, my left especially burst into pain with each footfall. I gritted my teeth. A metal taste filled my dry mouth and started to fall into my throat as I swallowed. Warm liquid dripped down my lips and chin. I spat out reddish liquid mixed with saliva onto the ground. I was bleeding. I had unknowingly bit into my lips and the walls of my lower lip. The pain didn't register since everything hurt and my legs were sending new waves of pain up into my numbed and exhausted brain. Working on less than two hours of sleep, I deliriously continued forward.

"Captain," I heard a soft voice as I stumbled, "Captain."

My eyes snapped open to harsh red skies seen in small flecks through the brush's branches.

The darkness was being chased away from the coming dawn sun. I rolled over and rubbed sleep from my bleary eyes. Color returned to the grasslands with various shades of green and the dirt brown of the roads. Blinking, I didn't even yawn as I glanced over to Akagi with a clearing clarity. The younger man lifted his rifle from its resting place and began to push himself from the brush. It was time to relocate to tall grass. The sun would be behind us until sun down. We would transition from the third hide to the second once the sun had crossed well past its mid-point but before it touched the mountains far behind the forest. Without another word, we started our slow walk towards the small downward slope. It was hard to find our own hide at the fringes of the tallgrass. If not for a small marking of brown on one of the leaves and the depression where our bodies once occupied, we wouldn't have found it at all.

Laying down on the still cool ground, I placed my rifle and a small sandbag beneath its handguard just behind the bi-pod for added stability along with our spotting scope. The two of us pulled out the painted and worn cylindrical suppressors from our load bearing vests uncomfortably digging into our abdomens. Squeaking from the threads rang loudly in the early morning. Suppressors would help direct the muzzle blast from both of our muzzle brakes from blasting into the grass around us, kicking up dirt and swaying the grass unnaturally, keeping us near undetectable. Instead of spraying the gasses into the surrounding area, the cylindrical cans would direct it forward and over the tops of the carefully pruned and trimmed grass. We slipped the veils over our heads. Stuck with grass blades, Akagi and I checked each other's suits to make sure the continuation of the foliage matched the greenery around us. Satisfied, Akagi pulled out another bean bag meant to hold up his rifle's buttstock and pressed his face down on it like a pillow.

Akagi laid still turning from a moving shrub into being part of the terrain himself. Only the occasional rise and fall of his torso could barely be spotted. I shouldered my rifle, peering through the scope and onto the road. My finger was off the trigger and the rifle on safe. It would be another six hours before I could get some sleep. Lunch would consist of beef jerky and a sip from the Camelbak hydration pack strapped to the back of the scaled down vest. I squeezed my eyes shut for five minutes before opening them again every few hours. During the short fifteen-minute break, I kept my eyes out of the scope and scanned the horizon. Sweet condensed milk in a tube helped relieve the strain of constant observation while my mind was kept occupied by the terrain and fauna. Bathroom breaks were done on the stop. Peeing right into the grass, ground and my pants. There was no room for creature comforts while we lay motionless waiting the entire day for the target to cross us by.

Six droning and boring hours later, I woke up Akagi to swap out. It was lunchtime. Heat rose with the sun directly overhead as we ate our lunch. Winds picked up during the hottest time of day. No fancy MRE that barely tasted better than the average convenience store bought boxes, instead we had sunflower seeds, some more jerky and warm energy drink mix. Under the hot sun, the temperature broke thirty degrees Celsius. Sweat started to coat my body with grimy stickiness. Beneath the repurposed flight suit, it was more than thirty for sure. I attempted to sleep under the hot sun but it was hard enough just staying still without wanting to tear off the ghille suit.

My mind drifted in between sleep and being awake.

Delusional, I was half awake.

"Captain," Akagi called as my head snapped up and half closed eyes quickly opened.

Familiar red skies greeted me. Day was once again turning to dusk. I glanced down at my watch, it wasn't even 1800 hours yet Akagi had waken me up. Something was wrong. I shouldered my weapon and leaned my head snug against the raised cheek well. Through the dimming light of the pinkish sky, I could barely make out the trade convoy moving through the forest at range. As they started to close in, I realized this convoy was unlike the others we had seen. The caravans before were filled with all sorts of ages and species usually with boxes or dried goods. Slave traders were far and few in between. They needed extra protection in case the slaves rioted and even then there were only two to four carts in the convoy.

I counted ten carts in total and the first one was filled with mercenaries.

"Could be our guy," I murmured, leaning over to see a red tape on the SSR's magazine, "switch to soft point. Minimize collateral damage. Temperature?"

"Twenty-five C," Akagi answered back as he pulled out the magazine from his M2010.

I pulled out the red taped magazine and replaced it with a yellow taped one. Pulling the charging handle back, I snatched a brass bullet from mid-air. A depressed ring ran around the Mark 319 Mod 0. It was far too powerful for the target we were going to shoot. Made to penetrate glass, sheet metal and similar barriers, the powerful round would certainly punch through the wood and tumble straight through the target only to stop at whatever backstop was behind it, human or not. Pushing the round back into the magazine, I slipped the red marked steel case back into my ammunition pouch.

"Not enough for a change," I murmured.

Clicks reverberated lightly in the cooling air. Akagi and I were adjusting the point of impact according to our small record books. New bullet, new zero. I pulled out my own small little device with a shrouded fan at the top. The Kestrel 5000 was an amazing tool for long range marksman. In a small handheld package, the device measured everything from wind speed and temperature to wind chill and density altitude. I held the small device up at eye level and watched the fan start to spin. Numbers on the illuminated screen flickered at the incoming data.

"Wind fourteen kilometers per hour," I muttered looking through the spotting scope set up beside my rifle, "no value."

With the fast approaching night came the calming winds. During the day, the heated terrain being blasted by the sun also warmed the air above. The earth is heated faster with the morning sun and since heat tends to rise and is lighter than cooler air aloft, the mixing air helps to bring down stronger winds blowing at higher levels. As the earth cools as the sunsets, the mixing of temperatures became less pronounced and the winds are relatively calm.

Small orange glows from lanterns came to life as the caravan prepared for night time travel.

"Assassin One, Assassin One, slave convoy headed towards the capital," I whispered into the throat mic.

"Assassin Two copies, monitoring," came the quick reply from Sawada.

Minutes passed as the caravan moved at a slow pace. With our adjustments dialed, in we waited for the right moment to shoot. One by one the carts passed as final adjustments were made. Each one had guards and mercenaries smoking, eating, yawning and chatting about oblivious to the fact that four marksmen had their sights trained on their employer. Soon the entire convoy came into view and the target with it. Sawada had PID'ed the target and with a flick of Akagi's thumb, I heard his rifle arm. I stared through the Mark 20's optics as the red barely visible in the sky. By the time we were about to fire, the sky had darkened considerably even with the illuminated reticule I could barely make out the target save for the small lantern hanging off the carriage's frame. Moonlight would soon shine down on them through the rapidly moving clouds as I ordered the countdown.

My right eye was glued to the glow red reticule in the magnified scope.

"…mark."

1853 Hours – that was the time when two sniper rifles coughed at Quintus Celer with extreme accuracy.

 _Thwack! Crack!_

Two cracks shattered the peaceful silence in unison. To my trained ears, the shots were fired so close together in unison it sounded like one loud crack from the two bullets breaking the sound barrier. I watched quietly as the bullets covered two hundred and fifty meters in less than a second. A mirage in the darkened light could be seen shimmering down towards the carriage. Wood splintered and cracked, sending shards of lumber into and out of the carriage. Quintus's torso snapped forward while his neck jerked left. His body flopped lifelessly from the seat from the force of two large caliber bullets slamming into him. Blood splattered onto the warrior bunny across from him. Her body was still from shock as red liquid smacked into her face. The grass in front of us swayed slightly from the sudden expulsion of gas but the well-timed shot came right went the wind blew making it look nothing more than a breeze passing by the pasture.

Guards and mercenaries jumped at the sound. I watched as the slaves winced, their mouths opening to scream in terror. The guards scrambled towards the carriage, only to find their employer dead. The sentient watchdogs covered their ears and curled into a ball, afraid that they might be next. Several of the guards were scared into inaction. From the hills came horses sprinting at full speed. On their backs stood the six assassins clad in their tight leather armor while their cloaks fluttered behind them. They would take at least a couple seconds to close the gap between them and the caravan.

"Tango down, confirmed tango down," I whispered into the throat microphone.

"Roger that. Clean shot on our end," Ikeda replied as I heard the click clack of Akagi's M2010 chambering a new round.

"Engage targets of opportunity. Repeat, engage all targets of opportunity," I muttered and shouldered my rifle, "guard running towards our friends with his crossbow."

 _Thwack!_

I watched the guard make a few steps up the upward slope of the hill before another round punched straight through his spine and heart. The man was pushed forward, falling down into the grass with his hand snapped at an unnatural angle from the weight of the crossbow. My rifle moved slightly to find a maned creature rushing towards us. Rustling golden mane covered by a scarf and bristling with muscle, the Leonoid snarled his teeth at us. Small ears were directed straight at us. He must have detected us when we fired our first shot right when the bunny in the carriage did. I placed the shimmering reticule at his waist, trying to compensate for the rapid change in range.

Inhale, exhale, hold.

 _Thwack!_

A blot of red exploded from his abdomen. The leonoid stopped abruptly and looked down at his wound. His hand touched just below his sternum before crumpling into the ground. A series of gunshots rang out as we continued to engage the guards. Flow like the river, I told myself as I moved smoothly from target to target. It was short lived. Soon after downing my second combatant, the rest of the guards raised their hands in defeat. Their weapons clattered to the ground while the assassins dove into boxes. Akagi and I stood up, hastily packing our gear and sprinting the two hundred odd meters to the caravan. I paused to check the leonoid on the ground.

Yellow round eyes glared up at me, his chest rising and falling at an erratic rate. Blood pooled around his body staining the green grass with red. His hands were still clutching at the two longswords he wielded. I watch him trying to lift up the now impossibly heavy weapon. He was bleeding out. I drew the SIG P226 from my right thigh holster and aimed the pistol between the leonoid's eyes. My eyes locked with his. There was something in his eyes that were unyielding to mine. A disbelief that he was no longer the hunter but rather the hunted. His mouth opened to roar in defiance but I never gave him the chance. My finger squeezed the trigger.

 _Bang!_

Without hesitation I had placed a hole between his eyes. There was no time for remorse in this career path. I holstered the pistol as the sound of the bang reverberated through the valley. Birds took to the air in surprise from their spots resting in the safety of tree branches. Akagi nodded, the younger man waiting for me to do the deed.

We hurried, sprinting towards the caravan.

Blood was splattered against the wooden chassis of the carts, grass and dirt. Bodies laid thrown together nearby on the side of the road. Slashes from blades cut into the flax canvas of the carts. Pungent smell of body odor and excrement filled my nose. The slaves were huddled together and were far away from the metal bars of the cages afraid of us green men dressed like bushes. Guards and mercenaries hand their hands above their heads being closely watched by Ikeda and Sawada only mere feet away from piles of their comrades. It served as a reminder that they shouldn't try anything stupid. I gestured for Akagi to go on over watch as I found Merrill pressed up against the wall, her left hand was drenched in blood pressed against her wounded side.

"You alright?" I asked, reaching into individual medic pack strapped to my left thigh and pulled out bandages, "here."

She took the white gauze and pressed it against her side as a werewolf hopped out from the cart behind her. He threw a small book towards me while another medusae helped the female warrior bunny down from the carriage. I flipped through the pages of imperial scripts with drawings that resembled the west of Falmart. They weren't joking when intelligence said that an army was being raised in the west to take hold of power once a revolution had started in the capital. Figures of at least two thousand were mustered from independent nations far to the west just south of the western desert where the standing army stood. Slips of paper were produced by the other assassins containing cryptic messages in between slave contracts.

Eye witness accounts from the other slaves added to the evidence. The best slaves were usually picked from the lot of enslaved in the west to be sold in Sadera and the empire for gold, it was one of the many avenues they were funding the resistance. Originally a group of disgruntled imperial soldiers, they pillaged small villages and turned the villagers for slaves. Over time, the group got bigger and bigger and now with the funding both the slave trade and the independent nations. They turned their sights back to the very country they deserted. News had gotten to the empress but she and her council has yet to take on a stance. The medusae of the group calmed the personal slave. Her snake like hair touched the bunny's skin. I watched as she started giving me streams of information, leaving the warrior bunny drained of energy.

Satisfied, I stood up and walked towards my men.

"We got what we came for," I said as Ikeda took a picture of the dead merchant for evidence.

"And the slaves?" grunted Merrill, fixing the bandage I gave her.

"Do whatever you want with them and the prisoners," I replied, waving at my men, "our job's done. Oh, and if you can, drop of our packs at the Jade Palace if you don't mind."

"Just another day in the office," Sawada muttered.


	10. Chapter 9: Greenlit

Chapter 9: Greenlit

"Hey Sawada!" I hissed from inside the door way as Sawada sculpted a small grey figure in one of the many gardens in the Jade Palace.

Two days after our double shift, information and intelligence had been pushed up the pipeline. There was no answer from high command and my guilt filled mind started to best me. In my hands were an ordinary bed sheet. It was actually none other than the very one Panache and I had used during our drunken sleep session. Prior to the sniper mission, I had 'flushed' everything from my head to become as still as possible. To flow like the river and be in a state of Zen. One skipped beat of my heart would have played hell on the timing of my own shots.

"Hrmm?" the Wester Army Infantry Regiment sniper grunted, looking up from his miniature sculpture.

"Come here. I need some help with some investigation work," I hissed back.

"Can it wait Captain?" Sawada asked, leaning back to stretch his back, "I'm almost done with the face."

"No! It's an order Sawada!" I whispered in a low growl.

I watched the sniper sigh, throwing his tools onto a nearby table and wiping his hands with a towel dirtied with grey clay. The two of us quickly marched to one of the still used storage closets with a large clear plastic bag in my left hand. This one was filled with gardening tools. A do not disturb sign in three languages were hung in front just in case, one in imperial, one in Japanese and if they didn't get the hint, big red English letters. I shut the door gently and turned to Sawada. My hands pulled out the bed sheet as the younger man gave me a quizzical look. As a lone flame flickered in the room, his eyes brushed over lights, brushes and powders usually used in investigative work. It was a small crime scene box that Ige, Akagi, Kazuki and Sawada carried for in field investigations in the event there was no available back up.

"Uh…," Sawada breathed, coughing slightly from the dust in the room, "what are we doing, Captain?"

"You remember the day before we deployed on that sniper op?" I asked pulling on medical gloves as Sawada nodded, "I was up drinking…but I was drinking with the White Rose."

"Oh, okay," Sawada replied blinking emptily before his expression changed to one of enlightenment, "oh… _oh._ "

"Yeah. It's been eating away at my conscious because I blacked out after we drank a bit too much," I said extinguishing the only lantern lighting up the room.

"What do you need me for?" he asked as I turned on the black light.

"I don't remember if we had sex or not. That's what I need you to find out," I grunted, Sawada slipping on his gloves.

The white fabric was illuminated in a purplish glow. Lightened splotches appeared on the bed sheet as Sawada touched the fabric with his hands, running his sensitive digits across the length each splotches. Sawada then went to the containers of powders and picked up the brush. He brushed a blackish powder across the entire stained sheet in hopes of finding something. Satisfied with his work, Sawada stood back with his goatee bearded chin resting on his fist. He analyzed his work with an eagle eye.

"I don't see any semen stains but…there is blood at the edge of the bed," Sawada murmured.

"Yeah, that was me. I cut myself while trying to service the ghille suit," I answered, I felt like I was being examined under the microscope.

"And the large stains at the top of the bed sheet?" Sawada asked.

"We made out a lot I think," I replied trying hard to remember, "I could only remember the sensations in my mouth."

"Well, other than the small bit of blood and sweat everywhere it's safe to say that you, Captain, did not have sexual intercourse with the White Rose," Sawada replied with a sigh, "well just in case give her some pregnancy test kits."

"I'll think about it," I grumbled back, rubbing my face as I tried to think of a way to apologize to her.

 _Bang! Bang! Bang!_

A series of loud bangs slammed against the locked door, making the two of us jump.

"Captain?" yelled Ikeda, "I know you're in there! Open up!"

"How do you know I was in here?!" I screamed back.

"There's only one person who would write 'Fuck Off' in big red English letters Captain," Ikeda replied, "I have something urgent."

I turned to Sawada, "you better not tell another soul about this," and ripped off the gloves from my hands before moving to open the door.

"I won't," Sawada murmured back with a burdened sigh.

Ikeda cleared his throat upon seeing my face, in his hands another manila file.

"We're greenlit for Operation Cronos," Ikeda muttered as a maid walked quietly behind him, "Lieutenant General Hazama wants us at Alnus in within the next hour. A security detachment will take over our spot for the duration of the operation. The JS Ashigara is eight days away from Lake Min where most of the resistance force has called home. We're force reconnaissance."

Force Reconnaissance.

My expression turned grim as I nodded. Closing the door, I relit the lantern and packed up the investigative tools before balling up the bed sheet and tossing it into the plastic bag. After conveying the information to Sawada, I went up to my room. A somber air hung around me with muted silence. My hands pulled out my uniform and clothes from the wardrobe. I was here for almost two weeks and once again we were set to deploy. We never hung around in one place too long. Carrying my ditty bag and rucksack, I walked out the door to see my teammates already packed. Ikeda had gone around telling everyone we were about to mobilize on what would be the longest deployment before the assignment to the Ashigara herself. Hasegawa walked out of her room and glanced with confusion on her face glancing at everyone and their packed equipment. A shadow was cast over her face as we told her she wouldn't be going with us for the next few weeks.

Lieutenant Hasegawa was never part of our unit. She was assigned as our handler and radio operator, nothing more. Hailing from Headquarters, she was neither ranger-qualified nor from a normal infantry unit. She was a POG (Personnel Other than Grunts), a person who worked behind the desks who supported normal infantry. If she was brought along she'd most likely have to jump with another member of the team adding to the already excessive weight we would be carrying. And during operations she would be sidelined for most of the duration which would defeat the purpose for bringing her all together.

With a solemn nod, we parted ways.

I told the team to wait for me on the lawn with all of their equipment. Reporting to Senior Vice Minister Shirayuri Reiko and Major Masaki Iseda, the commanding officer in charge of security team rotations for Susanowo's temporary change of station. I would be gone for almost two-thirds of my assignment to the embassy if not the entire duration. With the two acknowledging my notice, I walked down the pristine steps of the Jade Palace. My rubber heels tapped against each of the marble steps. Fully geared, we were expected to hit the ground running at Alnus. Stripped down Toyota HMVs, similar to the special forces Humvees, were waiting for us back at Alnus hill for training and familiarization. I exited the Jade Palace to see my team sitting at the far edge of the lawn tugging on their vests, packs and equipment to make sure they were all secure. A helicopter was dispatched from Alnus to pick us up and would arrive in half an hour at the pre-determined time. Approaching my team, they were silent as I dropped off my rucksack and Mark 20 SSR.

I realized that they were switching mindsets.

No more fun and games, this was war.

Fighting would all we would know and embrace for the next few weeks.

Knights watched while the maid Kazuki had affectionately played around with for the last few days approached just to be brushed off by the Inspector. It was like a flick of the switch. Our personalities had changed. My eyes glanced over to a tent not far away from the lawn. Just a few dozen meters and close the wall was one of the man tents. But this one, had a white rose flying on its flag fluttering in the wind. I walked away from the group and towards the tent. If I missed this opportunity I would forever regret it. I might never see her again after the operation if it extended far too long. We would be rotate back to Alnus hill, given leave and then depart on the JS Ashigara for the next six months. I only had three weeks left before we rotated back.

A squire guarded the entrance to the tent. Clothed in light armor, she stood up from her seat. Innocent brown eyes locked with my dull blue ones.

My eyes were fixed on the entrance as I said, "Is White Rose Kalgi in the tent?"

She nodded slowly, I could see a sense of uncertainty on her face.

"I have to speak with her," I said in a monotonous voice.

The squire nodded. She opened the flap to go inside, disappearing into the dark interior of the tent while I waited. Minutes would pass before she would come out.

"She doesn't want to see you," the squire replied as my eyes glanced towards her.

"That wasn't a request," I stated, making sure my voice was loud enough for the White Rose to hear me from inside.

A hand brushed the tent flap away briskly. Hardened jade eyes stared back at mine, her hair dripped wet with water. She wore a light green dress with a cloth corset securing her midsection. I recognized it was what she usually wore under her armor. Her face was flushed with red. Green eyes looked back into the tent as I entered to the chagrin of the confused squire. She stood at the far end of the room with a small table. It was a sparse room. There were books on her table, on the side a cloth bed and her armor and weapons held by stands and racks opposite of it. The White Rose was quiet, waiting for me to speak.

I sighed, "I didn't want to leave before saying this but, that night meant a lot to me. I'm sorry if I wronged you. I took it upon myself to make sure that you were still chaste. All we did was go to first base…many times. I won't hold it against you if you don't want to see me after this deployment, but on the off chance that you do, I'll either be at Alnus or back in my old room if we do come back before the operation ends," I spoke slowly, making sure every word sank into her.

I turned around and exited the tent. I couldn't face her with the things I'm about to do. A lot of blood was going to be spilled and I knew it. The sound of chopping rotor blades signaled the arrival of the CH-47J. My hands grabbed the equipment, my eyes glancing over to the tent. There, between flapping tent flaps was Panache standing between them. Our eyes met briefly. She averted hers quickly after our eyes made contact. Grass, dirt and dust blew around us in a gale buffeting our bodies. I still had hope for the two of us even if I managed the botch the only relationship I had ever entered on my own volition. Sound was drowned out by the loud chopping rotors and the whining twin engines as we boarded the rear of the transport helicopter.

Each one of my men's faces was grim. Each one was in their own mind space, preparing for the arduous task of being the eyes and ears of a large battle force. The helicopter's engines increased in pitch and loudness. A small sensation in my stomach as we took off from the Jade Palace, increasing in altitude. The large complex slowly grew smaller and smaller until I could cover my hand over the entire building. We banked away and back towards Alnus hill.

That was a week ago.

August 29th, dusk. The nine of us were gathered in the air base's borrowed ready room. My helmet enclosed my head, muffling the sound around me. Everything sounded like I was underwater. Desert goggles were snug against my face. My SCAR-H hung from the side, one magazine inserted with a round in the chamber. A hissing filled my ears, forcing air into my lungs from the positive pressure oxygen system we had been pre-breathing for forty minutes. Flushing nitrogen from our bloodstream was important jumping from an altitude higher than twenty-two thousand feet. Rapid ascent in the jump aircraft without nitrogen flushed out could lead to us getting 'the bends'.

We began our final equipment checks.

I grabbed the night vision device bolted to my helmet, shaking it to make sure it wouldn't pop out in flight. My hands pulled and pushed to make sure the NOD locked into place before returning it to its normal position. My hands ran down my vest making sure everything was velcroed shut, strapped and buckled in tightly. I drew the SCAR and gently pulled the charging handle back to see the glint of brass in the ready room's fluorescent lights. My hands lifted up the Mark 17 until the optics cut into my eye line. A magnified holosight reticule glowed with an intense red. Satisfied, I slung the weapon to my side and pulled the two-point sling tight against my body.

Sanada gave me a thumbs-up as I returned the signal.

I circled my right finger to see him turn around.

Careful eyes ran over the rear of Sanada's parachute. Metal connectors were tugged on, lines were checked and the straps of his chute were made sure to be secure. I turned him around making a visual inspection of his plate carrier and connections for our rucksacks that sat on the tarmac next to the waiting C-130H. Grabbing his helmet, I pulled it down to make sure the IR strobe was on. Sanada made his own inspection of the oxygen equipment and the altimeter while I checked my own after giving him a tap on the helmet to signal all green. We pulled on an additional plate of metal, made by Para-Flite called the Phaos, secured to our faces mounted snuggly against the oxygen mask to prevent it from tearing away in the event of a freefall accident. I tapped my analog altimeter to make sure that the ground we stood on was zero feet.

"Everyone good?" I asked, pressing the push to talk strapped to my plate carrier.

All eight other members gave me a thumbs-up as I nodded.

We walked out of the ready room and into the corridor leading out to the aircraft waiting area. I felt like we were filming a movie, slowly walking out of the ready room bristling to the teeth with weapons, ammunition and equipment. Just a few feet from the doors, I saw Kenji leaned against the wall. My former wingman gave me a casual salute. I returned the salute and gave him a slap on the arm with a small nod. I guess he wanted to see what I was like at my new job, maybe he was just waiting for us to clear out of the ready room we borrowed from the F-2 pilots. I never got an answer from him. We strode out from the building and into the darkened sky. A loud rumbling buzz greeted us when we opened the doors. On the asphalt sat the C-130H with its engines spooled up and ready to go. Tall flood lights illuminated the tree tone, green, greenish yellow and grey paint job of the aircraft with a red roundel painted on the side of the transport.

Our rucksacks were placed near the side door of the aircraft, piled up in a small mound. As we walked closer, a female crewman came to greet us. I couldn't hear what she was saying over the loud buzzing of the Hercules's engines and the muffled helmet. I simply nodded while she spoke. We came to a stop just behind our humungous rucksacks. I grabbed my packs and hooked metal connectors to the sides of my parachute pack. Disconnecting the shoulder straps, I looped them between my legs and pulled the tightening straps until the metal frame pressed against my thighs. My hands fumbled with the waist support as I clipped them around my hips. Two strands of paracord were run around the rear of my battle belt around the handle of the rucksack. The tops of the bag were centimeters above the ground as the pressure on my legs skyrocketed.

Our loadmaster waved us onto the aircraft. The female crewmember ran inside before us, hooking her helmet and mask into the oxygen system. Marching up the metal stairs, our two HMVs sat loaded in the rear ready to be dropped off. The skin of the usually green high mobility vehicles was repainted in multicam shades upon our request. Lights shined on from above as we made our way into the front of the aircraft where we took our seats. The nine of us sat down and hooked ourselves into a small box that would supply us with onboard oxygen.

I closed my eyes.

It would be four long hours before we got to our AO (Area of Operations). Hissing from the oxygen system and the droning of the C-130H's engines filled my ears. A rush of calm washed over me. We had very little sleep two days prior to make sure our gear was in place and noting down all the different frequencies the JS Ashigara and Task Force Raiden used. Task Force Raiden had deployed weeks earlier and were steaming full speed towards Lake Min. Consisting of both light vehicles and heavy tanks, the force was nearing Lake Min. In a matter of days, the force would be upon the Min Keep. A recent air reconnaissance photo showed a force of three thousand strong camped out in an abandoned keep that fell between the warring and expanding empire and the independent states. Our job was route, area and zone reconnaissance far ahead of the Task Force. Our only support was the JS Ashigara and occasional flights of F-2Bs and F-4EJ Kais flying overhead with dumb bombs. If the Ashigara or the jets couldn't engage the target, it would be on our shoulders to take down the threat.

No pressure, right?

I slowly dozed off into a lucid dream state. Half awake, half asleep, the positive pressure system required some of my attention to constantly remember that I had to breathe out after oxygen was forced into my lungs. I had lived a combined six years strapped into the very same oxygen system but it took a while to get used to remembering to exhale.

My stomach floating for a split second. I could feel the rush of air lifting wings up high into the sky.

Low pitched buzzing turned into a high pitched whine once I slipped into another lucid dream. The constant low burbling of the single engine fighter filled my ears. My eyes blinked to see the familiar wide heads-up display in my vision complete with three multifunction colored displays. We were high above the clouds, flying at twenty-five thousand feet. There was no land in sight except for the vast shimmering blue of the ocean. Radio chatter filled my ear as I glanced right to see my aircraft flying in stable formation off the left wing of an American KC-135. Its dorsal tail had large letters printed with AK, an American flag and small yellow letters near the top of the fin spelling out Alaska with a shining star. Another F-2B was refueling, on our wings were two large fuel tanks with a smaller luggage tank underneath. A small missile like pod was fitted to our left wing tips. The airborne instrumentation subsystem pod would be used at our end destination.

Red Flag Alaska – the biggest multinational air exercise in the world.

After our arrival, ten grueling days of realistic simulated combat would ensue after a short resting period.

I watched as the lead aircraft throttled back, sliding from the boom of the fuel giving KC-135. The Viper Zero effortlessly banked right to join two other aircraft flying in stable formation off the right wing of the Stratotanker. Flickering red and green formation lights blinked brightly even in the brilliant sun overhead. Looking back into one of the three mirrors, I saw another flight of F-2As behind me and behind them were the F-15DJ Kais. A total of sixteen aircraft were flying in tight formation across the Pacific Ocean. My eyes glanced over my helmet. The grey metal was repainted a solid red with over lapping armor designs that emulated the samurai's kabuto with the words Kitsune written in both stylized English and Japanese calligraphy along the upper left of the helmet's rim. It was the same as the adopted unit markings on the rear tail fin with a stylized white samurai helmet painted on the top center of the dark blue fin.

"Ryu One-Four, cleared pre-contact," came the tanker's voice in my ears.

I flicked the air fueling door switch. A small green RDY light flickered on to the right of the wide heads-up display. My right hand pushed on the stick. The Viper Zero rolled smoothly right as we swerved right behind the tanker, slightly lower than the much larger aircraft. A reverberation briefly shook the aircraft. Pockets of turbulence from the pacific air slammed into the frame of the aircraft. Slowly and cautiously, I inched the throttle forwards and backwards. Eyes darted between the HUD and the yellow centerline painted on the KC-135. The F-2B carefully crept forward. We carefully slid under the protective shadow of the Stratotanker with the aircraft director lights coming into view. Bolted at the front of the aircraft, strips of lights labeled F (Fore), A (Aft), U (Up) and D (Down) were still dark. The boom was floating left of me as I nudged the throttle ever so slightly. I could feel the boom maneuvering around behind me, a tingling sensation traveling up and down my spine like a sixth sense. After a few seconds of tense micro adjustments, there was a dull thud from behind me.

"One-Six contact, boom interphone," a female voice called out over the comms.

"Confirm intaphone copy?" Kaze answered in Japanese accented English as I made minute adjustments, the director lights flashing on.

"Loud and clear sirs, how you doing today?" replied the boom operator.

"Good!" Hirata answered energetically, my eyes flicked towards the rearview mirror to see her both of her thumbs in reply.

"We're all good a bit tried," I said in English glancing up at the boom window, "how 'bout you boom operator?"

"We're all good up here too, you guys have a good trip up from Japan?" she asked.

"Yeah good as it can be," I grunted, "you guys going to be dragging us in all the way to Elmendorf?"

"Heck yeah," she replied.

"Awesome…you going picking up anyone after us?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Yeah, we have the Indians, Singaporeans and Indonesians to pick up after you guys. Actually, the South Koreans and Thais just arrived a couple hours ago head of you," the boom operator explained as I nodded.

Concentrated silence settled in for a few seconds as a rush of air jostled the aircraft up a few meters. The green lights on the aircraft directors flickered from green to orange. I calmly pushed the nose down very gently to return the aircraft back into the green.

"This being uh…a special occasion since it's my first red flag. I've decided to sing a song about you boom operators. I was going to sing it to the Japanese guys but well, English doesn't translate over so well if you don't mind throwing professionalism out the door for about two minutes," I said glancing up once again at the boom operator in the window.

"Go for it!" she said excitedly over the radio.

"Alright this one goes out to you boom operator," I said and cleared my throat, "Boom operator. Boom…operator~ Please, please steady your boom because this is about the hardest thing I ever do. Boom operator, boom…operator~ Please soothe me with your sweet voice because this is the hardest thing I do. Boom operator, boom operator~ Why do you sit behind that window and laugh and mock me when I overshoot the boom? This is hard. Boom operator, boom operator~"

After a pause the boom operator giggled over the radio, "that was amazing."

"On a serious note, we appreciate the gas and the service. We wouldn't have gotten half way across the Pacific Ocean without your help," I laughed.

"Remind me to buy you a beer when we get to Elmendorf," she said, her beaming smile could be seen clearly even if we were separated by meters of fast moving air.

"You guys taking part in Red Flag?" I asked.

"Oh yeah we are," she replied with a nod.

"This is Ryu One from right wing. I apologize for wingman, he a bit crazy," my commanding officer apologized as the boom operator laughed.

"If you haven't heard it it's an homage to the same song on YouTube," I replied, the aircraft oscillate in the air slightly as it rode on the turbulent air currents of the pacific, "just search up 'Boom Operator' when you have the time."

"If you don't mind me asking sir, you are Japanese aren't you?" she asked.

"Yep," I replied, "well I'm half. Father's American, mother's Japanese. Funny thing is my father's in the United States Marines. 0372 Critical Skills Operator."

My eyes glanced over to the fuel gauge which was close to full.

"I'm topped off," I stated.

"Awesome, hopefully we'll have one or two more chance to talk before we reach Elmendorf," the boom operator said with an enthusiastic voice.

A clunk was heard from the rear. The boom disconnected as I pulled back on the throttle and watched the KC-135 slowly slid forward. I gave her a sloppy left handed salute, my right hand rocked the side stick left and right to perform a wiggle in the air much to the amusement of the boom operator. She laughed, her mouth open in the rear window of the Stratotanker as I banked right to rejoin four other F-2Bs flying off the right wing of the tanker. The four-ship F-2A formation slid forward with the lead aircraft sliding to the left wingtip of the KC-135 in preparation for refueling. We drifted rearward, creating separation between the tanker to allow the other aircraft to refuel.

"You're crazy Kitsune you know that?" Hirata laughed from behind.

I was shaken awake, the jump master now standing in front of me.

His hands flashed ten fingers in my face as I nodded.

"Everyone awake?" I spoke into the mask.

"Only you can fall asleep with this contraption on Captain," replied Ige, the SBU member sitting across from me.

"You should check Kazuki," Sanada said with a small chuckle as he smacked the older man on the chest, "hey old man you awake?"

"I'm awake you rascals," Kazuki growled.

"You woke up on the wrong side of the bed today," Ishihara muttered, comfortably leaned back on the military seat.

"I'm just sad I had to brush off Maya-chan," Kazuki sighed, "I was so crushed when I saw her saddened face."

"What are you going to do with the week furlough before we get assigned to the Ashigara?" Sanada asked Kazuki as the Inspector shrugged.

"I'll probably go around Akihabara and visit the maids at the maid cafe. They probably miss me," Kazuki replied.

"Not visiting your kids?" Okuda asked, adjusting his mask, "I really hate this thing."

"Those two are in college, they don't need me anymore," Kazuki snorted.

Kazuki was a widower.

A byproduct of being an exemplary policeman and SWAT team member in every single way. Too exemplary. He rarely came home even when it was a few kilometers away. The combination of a worsening marriage and awkwardly distant with his kids, Kazuki often spent his nights in the police bureau working on cases and constantly on call. Once in a blue moon, he'd show up for his children's school activities and often observed from a distance. He'd been sitting on twenty days of leave, the maximum any government worker can accrue. His wife died shortly after their divorce in a work place accident. While technically a guardian, his kids were constantly distant only visiting him one each year to report on what they had done throughout the school year like subordinates. With both kids now enrolled into the prestigious Tokyo University, he had cut them loose, only paying for their salary and living cost.

The interior lights flickered into a red hue as the loadmaster raised his hands.

We stood up and disconnected the onboard oxygen, the weight pressing down on my legs once again.

"Let's go over the mission objectives quickly before we jump," I said, waddling forward towards the center of the C-130H.

"Our callsign is Okami," Ikeda regurgitated the briefing robotically, "main role is force recon. Area, zone and route reconnaissance for Task Force Raiden under the command of Colonel Kengun. First objective is to observe enemy patrol patterns and plot a course for Raiden to advance towards Min Keep. Second objective, support the offensive by infiltrating the castle walls. Third objective, find and capture the commander of the resistance at Min Keep, alive. Am I missing anything?"

"You're frightening robotic Lieutenant," Sawada muttered as we stood just a few inches in front of the HMVs.

The loadmaster spryly jogged towards the rear of the aircraft, moving around the packaged vehicles with no effort. A rush of cold air sucked out the warm atmosphere from inside as the muffled clunk of the ramp was heard. The female crew member moved in front of us. She was just a few feet away from us when the clang of the rear ramp locking open reverberated through the interior of the C-130H before quickly being smothered by the howling winds outside. I felt the sweat pulled from my exposed neck by the nipping cold winds. The crewman raised her hands and placed them in front of her.

"Right, HMVs go first. Then, we wait for another two minutes then jump. They should be down by the time we pull our chutes. The HMVs should be spaced about one hundred fifty meters or so apart, look for the IR strobes. Our LZ is right in between them," I quickly reminded my team as they nodded in reply.

Two more crew members appeared from behind us, walking silently across the metal deck of the transport aircraft. They placed their hands on the tarped front of the Toyota and leaned over to wait for the loadmaster's command. I waited in bated silence. Oxygen hissed and the muffled howling air in my ears. An electric feeling shot through my body in anticipation of the jump despite my burning legs. A tingling sensation washed over my body from my head. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I heard my heart start to beat faster. I leaned over to see the loadmaster walking back towards us, the HMVs taking much of the space offered by the large transport. With his body and oxygen hose clear of the HMVs, the loadmaster smacked back of the crewmen's helmet. Their arms bulged underneath the flight suit as they pushed the front of the HMV. I watched the Toyotas slowly slide backwards with minimal force as we waddled closely behind, far too slow to catch up to the speeding vehicle sliding backwards.

I watched the second vehicle drop after a few seconds, follow its brother down into the dark abyss. The military Mega Cruiser rolled down the ramp. Lifting off the ramp with a loud clunk, titling dangerously backwards just as a drogue chute was pulled out from beneath the tarp. A green chute extended from the covered pallet. Within seconds, the blanketed HMV disappeared into the darkness. We lined up into two rows of four as I gripped onto a metal pipe for support. Standing on the ramp, the wind blasted against my legs. I could barely keep stead now that everything down to my ankles were basically one solid piece. Seconds later, I felt my body roll slightly to one side. The C-130H started banking to begin a shallow one eighty degree turn that would bring us back to the drop zone. My arm and legs burned with effort trying to keep one hundred sixty kilograms from tumbling into the side of the aircraft. A sky filled with stairs slowly revolved around us as the aircraft leveled out, I pulled down my night vision goggles with the loadmaster crouched beside me. His own goggles were down and staring down at the terrain below us. I glanced over his shoulder trying to see the ground far below. I saw nothing but zipping streams of opaque white underneath the aircraft. There were no lights between the layers of briskly moving precipitation. With the Mediterranean winter came rain and with rain, cover.

The loadmaster raised his hand, a balled up fist.

He then pointed his index finger out the rear of the aircraft.

"Jump, jump, jump," I calmly ordered into the radio, waving my men onwards.

The female crewmen waved the two rows forward as she stood on the ramp held securely in place by a thick cord rigged to the metal deck of the aircraft. I watched my men waddle awkwardly to the edge of the ramp. They stood for a few moments with their boots hanging over the edge. Their own body weight pulled them off the aircraft. Each man plummeted into the darkness below. One by one they jumped. With each one that disappeared into the void, I kept count. All eight men were accounted for with me being the last. With the eighth and last man, I let go of the pipe and glanced into the back of the now empty cargo bay of the Hercules. My eyes scanned the interior looking for anything that was out of place that we might have missed.

"Cabin clear," I verbally checked before slapping the loadmaster's helmet and giving him a salute, "thanks for the ride."

The loadmaster looked back, giving me a quick salute. I shuffled to the edge of the ramp and gave another salute to the crewmember ushering my men out the aircraft. It was a tough balancing act as I nudged my boots slowly towards empty air. It was a strange but already familiar feeling as I flexed my toes over the emptiness of air. Teetering on the edge, I glanced down at the terrifyingly dark earth below. There were no lights. Not even the moonlight above could illuminate an entire world devoid of electricity. Getting on the aircraft was the easy part, walking to the ramp itself was the easy part. Now it was time for me to step into the unknown. A million things rushed into my head. Was my parachute packed okay, what was my objective for the day, why am I even here? All those questions were answered within a span of seconds. Two final questions popped into my own head.

Is this operation justified in my mind?

Are you committed?

Yes, and yes.

I shifted my weight.

My heart started to race as I leaned forward. A small movement sent me falling over the edge. My stomach rose into my neck as I was being pulled down towards the ground by gravity. The buzzing of the C-130's four engines were quickly replaced by the rustling of air whizzing past my helmet. I was plummeting in the darkness while the green hue of the abyss revealed nothing to me except for dots of flashing light from below.

 _Huff, huff. Pssst._

 _Badump, badump, badump._

My breathing quickened and the beating heart loud in my ears. I flicked my wrist, glancing at the altimeter. Twenty thousand feet. Nothing was visible, the blanket of darkness still extending throughout my vision. Below me, the flashing lights disappeared. A very brief moment of panic set in, a knot in my stomach. Moments of tense silence passed by as nothing seemed to happen. I was alone in the night surrounded by nothing but bright shimmering and sparkling stars that were plentiful in the skies. Some would give up a life surrounded by electricity and lights for this, I thought. This other world was truly beautiful. Streaks of transparent light green slid across my night vision goggles. Blurs of bulbous veins slipped smoothly across the desert goggles. Ice cold pellets struck my exposed neck. Stinging pain was all that I felt as fabric started to turn wet and soaked up the liquid.

Rain.

I glanced up, trying to read my altimeter. My limbs were disappearing in and out of view a lighter green fog obscuring my view. Numbness started to set into my exposed neck and wrist after being repeatedly bombarded by both the rain and wind. Seconds spent inside the obscuring cloud was starting to make me dangerously complacent. It felt like I was going nowhere, suspended in the air save for the buffeting wind. I shook my head slightly to regain focus. Glancing back up at the altimeter, it read twelve thousand feet. It was a dangerous game freefalling through thick dark clouds filled with precipitation. A lapse of focus could send the sky diver shooting out of the clouds well below three thousand feet, too late to open their chutes. One moment the ground and everything around me was invisible, the next the gentle curves of the earth and grasslands snapped into view. I shot out of the nimbus and into heavy rain. Falling faster than the rain drops, I could still feel the liquid pelting my body. Flashing lights were once again in full view and two bright white lights shot from the ground and into sky. Far below me, I saw the open rectangular canopies of my teammates gliding downwards in between the two white lights.

Eight thousand feet.

My breathing started to slow. Deep and paced, I kept my eyes glued to the altimeter. That sense of weightlessness was about to be gone. The horizon started to slowly come into view. Thick clouds of rain smothered the curved earth. Visibility was poor, only a few kilometers at least and even then there was not much to see except for open land. Lines of purposefully made dirt roads crisscrossed the terrain like dividing lines for property that seemed to snake on forever avoiding hills, streams and often favored flat land.

Four thousand feet.

I waved my hands to and from my head three times, signaling that I was going to open my parachute. My left hand gripped the red toggle on the shoulder strap and yanked it to the left. Harnesses tightened around me, jerking me backwards into the air. The howling wind was quickly subsided by my rapid deceleration. The greenish canopy unfurled itself above me. Freefalling came to a sudden end. The same heavy weight returned, pulling down on my waist and torso straps. My eyes locked onto the leftmost HMV. Hands pulled the left control toggle close to my shoulder. I heard the crumpling of the parafoil being pulled on as I entered into a steep downward spiral towards the ground. The eerie green of the ground quickly loomed up to meet me. Blinking lights slowly became man sized shapes, the soldiers pulling their chutes in. As I closed towards the ground, I eased tension on the left toggle. My right hand went to the paracord tied around the front of my belt. I undid the knot and unclipped the metal clasps holding it to my pack. The rucksack dropped down from my thighs, flipping mid-air into its correct upright position giving my body a strong jolt from its heavy weight as it did.

Toggles were pulled close to my body as I flared to soften in impact. The pack touched down with a dull splat amidst the pouring rain. Pitter-patter of raindrops soaked my helmet through its ventilation holes. My legs sank into the muddied grass with a loud splash. Water and mud splattered against the tough fabric. Boots sank into the muddied ground. I struggled to stay upright as the wind blew into the canopy of my chute. Turning around, I pulled the cords with my arms against the strong gust. Centimeter by centimeter, the chute was slowly reeled in and before long was stuffed back deep inside the MC-4 pack. The parachute pack was shrugged off and oxygen mask quickly disconnected while the radio jacks were rearranged for normal communications. After stuffing the oxygen mask into the parachute bag, I shrugged on the rucksack and picked up the parachute bag. It was a short fifty-meter jog to the HMV where I found Sawada, Ige and Okuda already finished with their post-jump routines.

The rain continued to pour down on us as I threw my gear into the back of the HMV. The four of us unfastened the straps holding the vehicle down. Honeycomb cardboard papers were crushed in the cushioning of the heavy vehicle. Both on the rear and front wheels, the eleven layers of cardboard stacked underneath the mid-section had five layers compacted during the touchdown. We knocked the cushioning out from underneath the vehicle's center. Okuda jumped into the driver's seat and drove the vehicle off the metal pallet. Camouflage netting was pulled over the entirety of the pallet while the chutes were balled up inside. The same IR light used to home us in on the vehicles were mounted on top of the netting for the task force to pick up. They would be here within two to four days at the latest. The pallets themselves were off any known trail the Empire used.

"Urgh," Sawada grunted, pulling on his combat shirt stuck to his chest, "I'm sopping wet."

"The sooner we mount the weapons the better," Ishihara replied.

In the rear of the HMV's closed trunk, we pulled out two heavy weapons. The HMV was without doors. Weight was an important factor since we were going to eat, sleep and fight from the vehicle for the next week. Food and fuel supplies were stuffed to the brim at the rear of the two vehicles with our additional equipment and gear hung on the outside. Camouflage netting were also installed in easy to unroll bundles along the roof of the Toyotas. A small swivel system was installed on the front passenger side. I placed the M249 on its pintle and secured it with both rope and pin. An M2 Browning manufactured by Sumitomo was mounted on top. An hour seemed to come and go before we were ready to depart. Inventory was checked, equipment made sure they were fastened and weapons were prepped to fire.

Grunting, I slid into the passenger seat my rear end numb from cold and rain. I grabbed the radiophone and shoved it between my Comtacs.

"Raiden, Raiden, this is Okami how do you receive me?" I spoke into the radio as Okuda started the vehicle.

"Raiden, Okami, four by three," came the soft static filled voice.

"Raiden, Okami has touched down. Repeat Okami has touched down Requesting pallet pick-ups at grid…," I paused, pulling out a large laminated and inaccurate map of the area drawn by one of the travelers coming and going from Alnus Hill, "58 64 34 Charlie, 24 Echo. Marked by IR light and covered by camo netting how copy?"

"58 64 34 Charlie, 24 Echo. Marked IR, solid copy Okami. Proceed with mission objectives. Maintain radio contact every four hours. Raiden out," came the quick reply.

I glanced over to Okuda and nodded.

"All victors, all victors, let's get this show on the road gentlemen," I ordered into my headset.


	11. Chapter 10: Force Reconnaissance

Author's Note: A bit of a shorter chapter to prepare for the next few large ones. Hope you guys enjoy the story still, if you do please read and review as always. For those who have left a review, stay awesome, you guys rock!

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Chapter 10: Force Reconnaissance

Day Two.

Five hundred some odd kilometers were covered. Not only did our route have no signs of life other than the roving fauna of Mu Naga, wild horses and wolves, we were alone for the foreseeable distance. We had slept for five hours, huddled around each other with our HMVs parked on either side like a protective wall. Camouflage netting disguised us as another mound of dirt in a sea of rolling hills crisscrossed by barely used trails. With the rising sun, we rolled out, thundering through the terrain at ninety kilometers an hour.

Bouncing up and down in my seat, I had a radiophone permanently jammed into my ear to listen to radio chatter while Okuda drove once again. Every four to five hours we would switch drivers to prevent driver's fatigue. Ige manned the M2 Browning heavy machine gun with a pair of binoculars held up to his eyes as he scanned the horizon. Sawada was sprawled across the back seat, his sleeping bag secured tightly to the vehicle's frame to prevent him from being thrown out the side by durable paracord. The WAIR sniper snored loudly from the backseat every so often, he was exhausted after the jump and volunteering to take watch along with Kazuki for the first night.

Muddied tires were now caked with dried dirt as I glanced over to Ige, "how's Kasumi, Ige?"

"Last I talked to her she's doing well in school. Top ten of her class, she's finally in her third year of high school. Finally, I can stop listening to her complain about wanting to grow up and finish education," Ige laughed, his eyes still fixed on the horizon.

"Is she not going to university?" I asked, yelling over the roaring engine of the HMV, "she's smart enough to get into Tokyo U."

"My dad's cancer's approaching the terminal phase," Ige replied as the conversation took a dark turn, "he doesn't have much time left in the world Captain. My mother's getting weaker and weaker with each passing day. I told her to take time off but she wouldn't listen even though Takeshi's providing more than enough, well if it wasn't for the ever growing medical bills. Kasumi's thinking of finishing high school and then working instead of my mother as head chef of the okonomiyaki restaurant. And since business is picking up from the influx of new tourists, why not?"

"Won't she regret not going to university?" Okuda asked.

"She can help out part-time at the restaurant and study. I want her to get some form of higher level education at least. What about your two kids Master Sergeant?" Ige replied, taking a break from his constant scanning to glance at the older man.

"Kaede's turning ten and she's asking for a new phone," shuddered Okuda, "apparently the old flip phone's not cutting it anymore. She wants this thing called a uh…what was it. That thing Hasegawa has."

"A smart phone?" I asked.

"Yeah, that thing. It's going to cost me an arm and a leg. 78,800 yen! Just to play Pikeman? Pako, Pokémon? We're barely scraping by off of my current pay as it is. My wife's pushing me to retire from the army and go become a salaryman. At least they pay me an extra hundred thousand yen more than I'm currently getting," Okuda sighed, his shoulders drooping.

"But you'll lose all the benefits," Ige replied.

"What benefits?" Okuda scoffed, "health care's only provided by the SDF's central hospital, some region hospitals and clinics. It's only physical examinations, illness and injury that we contract during our course of duty. And that's not the worst part, I had to go out and rent a house outside our garrison because the housing's substandard. The SDF's so focused on appeasing communities near the base that they forget about improving the base facilities! Why am I even here, I'm still wondering…"

"Because you love us and you love this job?" I added with a large faked smile.

Okuda glanced over to me briefly before returning his eyes to the terrain ahead and sighed, "yeah…I love this job too much."

 _Bang! Bang!_

I heard the slamming of Ige's fist against the top of the HMV's roof as Okuda brought the vehicle to a sliding stop.

"Silhouettes over the horizon," muttered Ige with effort, I could see him straining to see with his Nikon EDG Binoculars, "our one o'clock. Looks like someone on horseback?"

"Get these two vehicles behind a hill quick," I ordered.

"You got it boss," Okuda grunted as he turned the heavy steering wheel.

The constantly grumbling engine sang a different tune as it started roaring to get the heavy HMV back up to speed. I pulled the radiophone out of my ear, turning around to see Sawada unzipping himself from the sleeping bag. Dark bags hung under his eyes even after being asleep for most of the day. He blinked mindlessly for a few seconds. Sawada's head looked left and right for a few moments before he yawned, grabbing his G28 from the overhead fabric weapon sling. I grabbed my own Mark 20 Sniper Support System from just behind my headrest. My eyes were kept on the distant hill far away from us as it disappeared behind another mound of grass covered dirt. Okuda and I quickly dismounted, hustling to retrieve the spotting scope and the two sniper rifles we carried. One was Sawada's M2010 ESR and the other was the additionally requisitioned M107A1 Anti-Material sniper rifle. After numerous RF-4E Phantom photo reconnaissance flights, a couple of giant Ogres were spotted resting and doing their business inside the keep. More were spotted near the fringes of the keep where some of the army set up their camp. The M107A1 and its Raufoss Mark 211 rounds were requisitioned specially to deal with that threat.

As Okuda and I threw ourselves down on the slightly damp hill top, I heard the sloshing footfalls of the other men behind me. Sawada slid into the prone position grabbing his M2010 from the hardened weapons case to quickly set-up by deploying his bi-pod. Okuda flipped open the two metal locks on the rugged polymer weapons case. Inside sat the standard black M107A1 with silica gel packets shoved inside to absorb the moisture and protect the weapons from rust. I watched Okuda pull out the heavy rifle as I set up the spotting scope. Only Ikeda and Ishihara from the second vehicle joined us on the hill with their own spotting scope ready to deploy.

I pulled out a small pocket book from my admin pouch and placed it on top of the damp grass. Taking off my helmet, I reached back and pulled on the comfortable boonie hat. I peered through the angled viewfinder of the spotting scope. A blurry image of green, light blue and white shined through the glass. My left hand nimbly twisted the focus ring at the far end of the tube. Blurry splashes of color slowly sharpened into a cohesive image. Gentle curving hills were given definition with shadows. Flickering spots of light from fresh rainwater sparkled in my eye as I trained on the shapes moving down the hill far beyond. Like large black specks of black dust on a monitor, they were still too far away to be identified clearly as anything other than vague shapes on horseback.

"Ishihara," I murmured, glancing sideways at the 1st Airborne Unit member.

"Hrmm…?" he muttered back as his eye peered through the M107A1's bundled in scope.

"How's it going with Kuribayashi?" I replied.

"What do you mean?" Ishihara said nonchalantly, caught off guard by the sudden question.

"We saw you laughing and smiling with her kiddo," Okuda breathed, "you _never_ smile or laugh around us."

"You sure nothing's going on between you two?" Sawada added, squeezing his eyes shut and lowered his head from the rifle.

"Betsuni (nothing's up)," Ishihara shot back just as Sawada finished his sentence, his lips pouting.

"Liar," I laughed.

"We just met up a few days before the operation and went out drinking together afterwards to relieve stress from training and preparation," Ishihara replied, "life, friends, siblings and military related topics just came up as we drank."

"Eeeh," Okuda breathed with a small smile.

There was a grunt from Sawada as he peered through the scope. He blinked a few times, his breathing naturally slowing and paused. I watched his mouth slightly opening and his right eye soullessly staring through the optics before he blinked again to clear his vision and shook his head. Instead of observing the enemy through the spotting scope, I found myself worrying about Sawada. This was his first real taste of war, most of us had our first encounter no matter how lopsided. With the exception of Okuda, Ikeda and I who all served in the Gulf of Aden and the Arabian sea in anti-piracy operations, this was the units first taste of actual blood. Nothing could replicate it, even the numerous real to life simulations we took part all over Earth.

"You alright Sawada?" I asked, rolling over to my side to face him.

"Yeah…" he breathed, "I'm just having a little trouble behind the scope. Sometimes I look through the glass I see a ghost image of Quintus. That face he had on him before I put a bullet in him. That face of contempt, looking like he's doing it for a just cause and then just like that, he's dead. Empty eyes, a drop of blood trickling from the side of his head while the rest of it splashed onto his slave from Akagi's shot. I can't forget it."

My lips pressed into a thin line.

Snipers were always intimate with their target. So much so that they essentially breathed and lived next to their target without them even knowing. Sawada had experienced it firsthand. That intimate moment staring into Quintus's eyes, seeing his happiness, his bliss of being a man of a bigger mission, living the life that many envied. A three-pound trigger pull and Sawada took all that away, ending Quintus's life. It was justified in Sawada's mind to take his life. But, the image of his target's last seconds on this plane of existence would be forever burned into the back of his eyes whenever Sawada looked through his scope. This wouldn't be the last time he would stare through the optic and I knew he was coping but there was no way to help him through what he was going through.

I placed my hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze and offered pathetic words of comfort, "you'll get through it. I believe in you, Taka."

'Taka', Hawk, it was the nickname we gave him for his attention to detail.

"Thanks," Sawada replied with a small smile.

"I'm seeing six horsemen," muttered Ikeda apathetically.

"Confirmed six," breathed Okuda.

I gazed back through the spotting scope and breathed, "they weren't kidding when command said it was 'a group of freedom fighters, ex-imperial soldiers, mercenaries, looters and bandits.'"

Galloping at a leisurely pace, the six shapes were now discernable from the bottom of the hill. They headed more or less towards us. Their leader had the standard Roman overlapping plate armor. The once gleaming steel had now taken a dull silver, with small spots of matte brown from rusting. In his hands were a spear and a faded wooden shield in the other. The other three men were clothed in various armors from leather, to half-plate and chain mail. One carrying a lance was wearing mismatched pieces of plate mail. Missing left shoulder and arm pieces were supplanted by chain mail and his helmet was the standard imperial Galea. They weren't heavily armed by any means. Two others were following closely behind, both the riders and their horses had chains connected to two different of the bandits. Shimmering from one dazzled my eyes with bright white and blue lights through the scope despite having a standard burlap sack pulled over their body. The other was human-like with short cut black hair, slightly tanned skin and the same burlap sack.

"They're still a ways off," I murmured, "we'll just report them to Raiden and be on our way."

"Come on Captain," Sawada said with concern, "they've got two slaves with them. It's not like we're going to get spotted and they'll radio back to the camp. It'll take them a couple days if not weeks to get back to the keep. The least we can do is free them from their bondage."

There was a pause as I watched the galloping formation slowly close.

With a sigh I asked, "you sure you can make the shot?"

Sawada stared at me with confident eyes and gave me a sure nod.

"Ikeda, go get Akagi and bring your Mark 20," I ordered and pulled out the small Kestrel device.

"Ryokai (roger)," Ikeda grunted, pushing himself off the ground and jogging back down to the second HMV.

We were working against time. At any moment, the formation could shift their direction of travel and move away, making the shot that much harder. Akagi and Ikeda slammed into dirt panting. The two set up their rifles and pulled out their own notebooks as I checked the wind. My eyes scanned the entire area intensely, making sure each mound of dirt, hill and dip was seen before I predicted the wind. I pulled out my laser rangefinder to measure distance while Sawada flipped through his notebook. Clicks from six scopes could be heard as the measurements were finalized and the bullet dope estimated. I had ordered the switch from softpoint bullets to armor piercing. Just in case the bandits had far better armor than we know, dragonscale armor had become cheaper to produce since the battle of Alnus Hill. Large amounts of dragonscale circulated into the market and small arms fire weren't enough to penetrate the tough material. It was also another reason the M107A1 was requisitioned.

I pulled out the red taped magazine and smacked in a black marked magazine. Racking the charging handle, I slowly released the small peg to confirm the black tipped cartridge was inserted. A satisfying clack from the rifle rang in my ears.

"Alright," I breathed, looking through the spotting scope, "six four eight meters, twenty-two kilometers per hour wind, one half value left?"

"That's what I'm seeing and feeling, looks like a seventeen kilometer per hour wind down range," Ikeda murmured as the wind felt swift against our arm hair and exposed skin.

"Kind of a long shot for us don't you think?" I muttered.

"Not for us," Sawada breathed.

"You guys got your own dope?" I asked Sawada as he nodded in reply.

"It actually really is a long shot," Sawada glanced down at his notebook to double-check and chuckled.

"Seven hundred yards and closing," Ikeda murmured back.

"That's left seven point six MOA for me," I grunted, my scope dial clicking from the adjustment.

"You still using the United States Marine Corps wind measurement?" Ikeda asked.

"If it ain't broke why fix it?" I replied with a small smile.

"Anderson swears by it. He's used it so much and has never missed it. Sawada tried to introduce him to more accurate wind formulas but he's missed every time. Maybe he's just bad at math," Okuda laughed.

I settled my crosshairs on the leather wearing bandit galloping just left and behind the armored Decanus, "I've got left baddie, the one in leather armor."

"I've got the guy in Imperial armor that's slightly rusted," Sawada breathed, the flick of his rifle's safety now on fire.

"I'm on the guy in chain mail riding to the right of the leader," Ikeda murmured.

"Got the burly man in plate armor," Akagi breathed.

"What about us?" Okuda asked.

"You guys just hold fire. If one of those armed horseback riders don't go down, whack'em," I breathed, "give us a countdown Okuda."

"You got it boss," he muttered back, "here we go…three…two…one…"

My breathing slowed. My thumb pushed the safety from S to F. Inhale, exhale, inhale half way…hold. The swaying unilluminated black cross in the middle of the scope stilled itself at the leather sporting bandit's waist. I could see his horse huffing and puffing as it ran from exhaustion. The man himself had a hood draped over his face, but his lips were cracked and dried. Healed scars littered all over his mouth like an elaborate stitching. This was a man who had been through the hell of many battles and lived to survive. And here he was, being observed for the last few seconds on this plane of existence. All there was deciding if he was going to live or die was a four-pound trigger pull.

"…mark."

 _Thump! Crack! Thump! Crack!_

The four rifles fired off in unison. Thumps from the more powerful M2010 ESRs overtook the mild cracks of the two Mark 20 SSRs in both loudness and speed. Dirt blasted forward from the combined muzzle blast of the weapons, splashing over the hill and kicking dislodged dirt and grass back onto our exposed forearms. I watched two of the horsemen punched off their horses and into the dirt a split second before the slower 7.62mm bullets slammed into the other two. My bullet landed just lower than I had anticipated. A light splat of red shot out just below the bandit's neck. He was thrown off his steed, flipping once before landing on the grass staring at the sky. Both of the slaves were dragged down by the sniper fire as their masters were struck by heavy bullets. The two slaves tumbled along the grass, continually dragged until they came to a stop caked in dirt and mud. The humanoid pushed himself off the ground and slowly crawled towards his dead master.

The four that were shot laid still in the swaying grass.

"Time to pack up and go check on them," I grunted, grabbing my rifle and the spotting scope.

The six of us slid down the steep hill towards the HMVs. We placed the additional equipment back inside and took our seats. Instead of Okuda driving, Sawada manned the driver's station and started up the Toyota. The V8 turbocharged engine roared to life as we took off for the six downed patrol. It was hard to believe that as far as five hundred kilometers away from the keep itself there would be roving patrols, constantly looking for the incoming green men. We exited our hide and thundered towards the frenzied horses that were scattering at the loud noise. Okuda and I were ready to leap out, our SCAR-Hs at a low ready position close to our chests. My left hand gripped the door frame as the militarized Mega Cruiser bounced and jolted from the constantly rising and dipping terrain.

Sawada brought our vehicle left, circling around while Ikeda and his HMV circled right. I brought my weapon up and pushed the magnifying lens to the side of the rifle to stare through the EoTech. Three loud cracks ran out in the plains to put down the frenzied horses that continued to drag the slaves around. My barrel smoked with white wisps as we came to a skidding stop beside the formation of the fallen riders. I grabbed my OpsCore helmet and shoved it on top of the Comtacs and bonnie hat.

Walking across the fields, I looked down at the bandit I had shot.

The bandit laid there on the grass gasping for air. Blood pooled out from his wound, flowing from his back. My eyes narrowed catching the small glint of light as blood was sucked down from just below his throat. A gurgling sound filled my ears. His lungs were filled with blood. He was slowly suffocating, gasping for air. I knelt down and rummaged through his pockets while his steely diminishing eyes followed my movements, trying hard to focus on me. His mouth opened, coughing up specks of blood from his throat as I pulled out sacks of silver denari from his pouches. Moments later, his gasping stopped. He had suffocated with no oxygen left going through his brain. His silver feline pupil widened to a large orb of black. My fingers closed his eyelid and stood up. The bandit's last moments were of the little green men.

"Captain!" Sanada yelled, "the slave, she's wounded!"

My head snapped to the younger man knelt over a rusty bronze chain. Ige was sprinting back from the HMV with bolt cutters in his left hand. I moved quickly, hopping over the bandit's now lifeless corpse and towards the 1AB (1st Airborne Brigade) member. As I neared, a humanoid I had not seen before laid on the ground. Her chest rose and fell with each labored breath. Covered by a burlap sack and a flax thong, the humanoid covered in fish scales had a fish-like tail and two legs. Their hair was made up of large scales with two triangular ears pointing out from the sides of their heads. The aquatic humanoid had a beautiful face and glittering skin. Red blood was dripping out from her lower left abdomen and onto the grass she laid on.

"Wa…ter," she gasped weakly.

Ige pulled his canteen from the side of his vest and handed the bolt cutter to me. He placed the water container over her mouth and trickled the liquid into her orifice. She guzzled down the liquid with energy as Sanada pulled out a small rubber tube and placed it on her mouth. I cut the heavy chain wrapped around her neck. A relieved gasp came from her as she bit down hard on the tube as per Sanada's instructions. Sanada reached in with his hands. The scaled humanoid let out a pained yelp as Sanada dexterously pulled out a flattened and misshapen brass bullet from her abdomen. The armor penetrating bullet must have punctured the armor before yawing, tumbling inside the first man and punched out the other side before veering dangerously off course and striking her in the stomach. Sanada quickly dressed her wound, pressing the gauze over her wound and placing surgical tape on top of it to make sure they stayed in place.

Sawada and Ishihara moved equipment from the first HMV to the second to make space for the two slaves that were recently freed. Air mattresses were inflated and laid out in the rear canvased flat bed of the vehicle. It was a few hours after noon and it was a good time as any to rest for a delayed lunch. While the mer-woman whose name we found out was Cora, rested in the rear of the vehicle, the young human slave joined us for lunch. Not much older than your average teenage Japanese boy, he was confused when we told him he was free. Much to our dismay, we found out he was a slave for much of his life and wasn't sure what he was to do with this new found freedom. Okuda, being the fatherly figure that he was, decided to take him under his wing until the end of the operation. All we knew was his father had been dead for a few years and was worked to death in one of the independent kingdoms. His mother was still at the keep, working both as slave labor and as a pleasure slave for the fighters currently there. He couldn't read, the couldn't write and his imperial was barely passable compared to the rest of the slaves we met mostly due to his origin from the far northwest.

"Cailean," Okuda said, reaching his hand out to newly liberated boy to stop him from guzzling down the rice, "slow down. Don't eat to fast or you'll kill yourself."

"I'm sorry ser," he murmured back, his mouth full of rice.

"When was the last time you had something to eat?" Sanada asked. Splotches of brown curry sauce and bits of pork were smeared along the edges of his mouth. The Sergeant ate like a kid still compared to the rest of the team, "And don't call us ser, you're free now kid. Just call us by our names…unless you can't remember them yet."

"I'm sorry uh…" the boy's eyes quivered in his sockets.

"Sanada Koichi, you can call me Koichi or Sanada. Actually…aniki (big brother) might be better," Sanada blurted, rice flying out of his mouth.

"Sanada!" Okuda growled, slapping the younger man on the back of his head, "don't speak while your mouth is full of rice! It's disgusting and it'll get all over the boy."

"An…ee…kee?" Cailean replied, failing to emulate the Japanese word.

"Not Aneki (big sister) Cailean, Aniki, A-ni-ki," Okuda laughed at the reddening Sanada, "you've just called Sanada your big sister."

Most of the team burst out into laughter. I clutched at my stomach nearly choking on my meal as Sanada was quickly embarrassed. Even the silent Akagi and the brusque Ikeda's façade cracked with a slight smile tugging on the corner of their lips. Ige spat out his energy drink, drenching Ishihara in strawberry flavored electrolytes much to the Sergeant's chagrin. Cailean glanced at each of us confused by what was happening.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his head drooping to the ground.

"N-No," Okuda said in-between breaths, "it's okay. It's just good to finally see Sanada taken down a couple notches by someone younger than him."

"You just got owned Sanada," Ishihara grinned wryly, wiping off the energy drink with his tissue.

"Urusai (shut up)!" Sanada pouted as he turned around from the group with an audible harrumph.

"I've never heard that word before," Cailean replied, slowly shoveling food into his mouth.

"Oh that's Japanese," Ige explained, "we're the green men from the other side of the gate."

Cailean's green eyes widened in sudden realization.

"You're the warriors that took on the allied army and won?!" he blurted out excitedly.

"Yup," Okuda replied with a large and proud smile.

We packed up our lunch and remounted the HMVs. I stood at the M2 browning machine gun turret, my rear end support by a series of straps and cushions that formed a small net around my legs. Okuda now sat in front passenger seat with his new adoptive son sitting on his lap. While he looked like a fifteen-year-old boy, Cailean or Cael as we called him for short was actually a mere nine years old. When fully grown, he stood taller and any of us at ten feet full grown and muscled, he was bigger and stronger than any man back on Earth. Ogre genes ran in his blood. How his ethnicity came into existence I didn't want to know. Cael picked at Okuda's brain. Everything from the Earth and Japan to the group of elite warriors that called themselves Susanowo. His eyes glittered with excitement and wonder as Okuda started to teach him the basics of Japanese starting from the hiragana syllabaries. Soon, the two of them were cuddled together on the air mattress snoring away in the night. Ige drove next with Sawada on the heavy machine gun. My sore butt was back in the semi-damp front passenger seat, jostling and jerking along with the moderately fast speed of the Toyota.

Our sleep plummeted from ninety kilometers per hour blasting through the plains to a paltry and relaxed forty kilometers an hour. I occasionally moved towards the rear to nurse the wounded Cora. Every hour or two she needed water. Within each passing cup of water, I gave her, her strength slowly returned. She was well enough to speak after my watch ticked over midnight. By then, I was the one driving while Okuda took over the M2 station and Ige took over caring for Cora. She was far less inquisitive than Cael. When she asked about what we were going to do with her, she broke down into tears realizing that she was free once again. Cora spilled her guts once the gentle Ige smiled. Happy that she was finally returning to her people, she told us that the bandits enslaved the mer-people that surfaced on the shores of Lake Min. They were used to find sources of water for long patrols in their dehydrated state. Cora was kept from water for days and nearly died from drying out on air.

Two days would come and pass. Cael and Cora became an integral part of the team, telling us which route we would take to avoid the many small parties of bandits, ex-guards and mercenaries that roamed the land. The port town of Egara harbored and refilled many of the parties patrolling the northern edge of Min Inlet which served as a midway point between the keep itself and the edges of JSDF controlled regions. Egara still supported the ousted Prince Zorzal but little did they know of the actual person commanding the army at the keep. JS Ashigara had arrived in the vicinity of the inlet, parked a couple of kilometers away from the river leading to Min Lake. Bristling with Harpoon anti-ship missiles, SM-2 (RIM-66), SM-6 (RIM-174 ERAM) and RGM-109E Tomahawk Land Attack Missiles. Without GPS, the Tomahawks replied on internal guidance systems, terrain contour matching and digital scene matching area correlation data provided by MSTAR (Man-Portable Surveillance and Target Acquisition Radar) fitted to the sides of our HMVs with a small computer display mounted on the interior of the vehicle.

Cael would ask us why we didn't ambush and free the slaves being dragged against their will across the plains.

The answer was simple.

We weren't a charity.

We were a force reconnaissance team. Remaining fast, agile and speedy was the name of our game. Having a convoy and leading slaves back towards where they set out from would be counterproductive and would telegraph our movements from hundreds of kilometers away. A saddened face was etched across the visage. The slaves held in bondage by the scout parties would be left up to their own fates, during and after the battle.

We came to a stop a kilometers or two away from the town of Egara. Flickering lights and the soft glow of flame powered lanterns lit up the seaside, bathing it in an orange glow. Through the binoculars, I watched patrols of six, eight, ten and even fifteen ride out from the port town. All of them wore mismatched armor with slaves to help carry their equipment, gold, gear and food. Trade caravans and travelers casually entered and exited town like nothing had happened. Egara was still bustling with activity. Ikeda and Kazuki were sent into the town for additional supplies and intelligence. Another cell of the resistance was operating inside Egara itself and most of the town was under the influence of the man we nicknamed 'The Berserker'. A former champion among the imperial army, he had resigned from the army upon Empress Pina's ascension to the throne. Legend has it that he fought with the strength of thirty men and none lived that confront him. A fear would consume each of his opponents before he struck them down and drank their blood as a ritual to the goddess of the underworld – Hardy.

We would come face to face with 'The Berserker' himself.

The god of the sea and storm would duke it out with a champion of the underworld.


	12. Chapter 11: So it Begins

Author's Note: Here is the long chapter! It took me the better part of two weeks to write. Its going to be just battle for the next two chapters and if its too long for some of you to marathon read or if you feel some of the chapters are too short please let me know. I hope you all that's still reading this far in are enjoying it and as always, please read and review.

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Chapter 11: So it Begins

"Okami, Raiden, be advised, enemy has been alerted to your presence. Fortifications are being prepared over," Ikeda reported from behind us inside the HMV.

"It doesn't help that all three Special Forces teams had to eliminate their sentries posted over the lookout point," I grunted as I was laid down on my belly, "took them long enough to realize their men were dead."

"I'm just glad those men didn't need to check in until today. We've been here for almost two days and now they know something's up," Okuda yawned with Cael next to him.

The eleven of us were clustered on a nearby hill top. Slightly lower than the keep itself and almost a kilometer away, it provided an excellent overlook position and guard post. Min Keep was built on top of the highest mountain with two smaller hills flanking it on both sides. One winding road shallowly sloped upwards towards the structure itself. Between the two raised hills was a flat plain, extending as far as the eye can see. Large cliffs adorned the hill side we had set-up on. One decrepit stone watchtower rose from behind us. Sawada was on duty with his sniper rifle set up and observing the enemy activity inside the keep itself. A list of possible commanders was drawn up. But, it was hard to confirm if they were really commanders or not due to the lack of uniform across the entire force itself. Only The Berserker's honor guard wore any type of uniform and even then it was lavish red dragonscale armor with customized parts for their body.

Two flanking hills funneled forces arriving from the plains into a small thin line no wider than two tanks side to side. It was an extremely defensible position. If it weren't for the special forces teams controlling the two hills, any moving infantry would be slaughtered by the prepared oil bombs and boulders. The keep itself was bustling with activity. Men swarmed the structure and the road stretching all the way down like ants on an ant hill. Sharp wooden barricades were set-up to protect against rushing cavalry. Large defensive siege weapons were carried into place by ogres. Trebuchets, ballistae and catapults were placed all around the keep's wide watchtower tops and behind the walls while others were placed on the hill. Hot oil barrels were quickly carried to the gates while circling flights of dragonriders kept a watchful eye from above. Our notebooks and laminated maps sketched out each position in detail. It was hard to believe that a force of three thousand men occupied the keep and the surrounding area. Many lay dead on the two hills while those that defended the mouth of the funnel were oblivious to the twenty-seven men keeping a watchful eye days prior to the start of the battle.

A low darkened cloud hung over the entire area. Rain was frequent and during the battle, heavy rain was forecasted. It looked bleak as heavy clouds blocked out the sunlight. Heavy and fluctuating winds played hell on ballistics. The weather concerned me greatly since laser designated bombs didn't work through cloud cover. Joint Direct Attack Munitions used GPS as its main guidance system. Without it, the internal guidance system still had an acceptable thirty-meter circular error probable if dropped for less than 100 seconds. Any danger close CAS (close air support) would have to be done with guns or rockets.

I pushed myself off the hill, leaving Sanada, Okuda, Cael and Ige up to their own devices. A couple meters down the hill with camouflage netting deployed and under the protective shade of a tree, the HMVs sat silent while its electronics worked off of battery power. Ishihara was on the back seat of my vehicle fiddling with the MSTAR deployed next to Sawada in the watch tower.

"How's it looking?" I asked the Sergeant as his eyes glanced quickly up at me before returning to the screen.

"I think we've got a good picture," Ishihara sighed, "drawback of the system is the missing areas just behind the castle walls and some of the terrain features but I think it's good enough for the Ashigara."

"Alright," I grunted, walking around to the driver's seat and picking up another radiophone while Ikeda occupied the passenger seat sending messages to the Task Force, "set up the uplink."

"Ryokai," Ishihara sighed as his fingers tapped on the laptop.

My right index finger tapped on the small keypad before squeezing the transmit switch on the radiophone, "Ashigara, Okami, how do you read?"

"Okami, Ashigara, four by five," came the fuzzy but clear reply, "go for message."

"Ashigara, Okami, MSTAR radar picture uplink ready to upload via Link 16 over," I muttered into the radio and glanced back to look at Ishihara.

"Okami, Ashigara, solid copy on radar picture ready to upload. Send data," the radio operator responded as I nodded to Ishihara.

"Ashigara, Okami, data uploading. Overlay map and map grids given by command for reference map over," I replied, hearing the clacking of keys behind me.

"Copy that Okami. Will contact you once radar picture has been uploaded and the grids and map has been overlaid. Ashigara out," the radio operator finished his transmission.

"Here," I yawned and handed Ishihara the small notebook of finalized coordinates, "request TLAMs (Tomahawk Land Attack Missiles) on those coordinates for me will you. They'll take about an hour to get to the target so request them an hour earlier. Operation start time is September 6th at 1935 hours when the sun's set. It's going to be a long night of fighting."

"I'll do anything to stop watching ogres shit for half a day. Those things eat ungodly amounts of food," Ishihara snorted, glancing down at the notebook.

"I'm going to go see what Sawada's up to. You take care of those coordinates for me, okay?" I said as Ishihara nodded and waved me away with my own notebook.

I started the climb back up the hill and towards the dilapidated watchtower overgrown with vines, moss and bramble. The tops of the watch tower were blasted open. Parts of the roof were gone, wooden boards that made up the roof were rotten or splintered. Stone bricks were cracked with charred spots of black plastered across the walls. Some of the bricks felt smooth while the rest were rough. I ran my hands across the interior feeling some of the stone as if they were sandblasted on the inside. Stifled air hung inside the watchtower while the occasional breeze brought fresh air. Climbing the tower, I could hear the rubber in my boots squeak against the stone steps. A nasty layer of grime moved with each step I took. We haven't bathed or showered in two days, our body odor was started to permeate like a thick musk. One black thick cord ran from the HMV all the way up to the top of the watch tower. As I ascended towards the final steps a small four step gap gaped at me with specks of falling dust snowing down into the floor far below. A series of hastily rigged rappelling rope dangled from the top secured to a steel piton. My hands gripped around the thick cord, pulling myself up and over the final step and onto the roof.

Sawada glanced back from his position on the ground, rifle perched just behind the edge of the tower and raised his hand up in greeting, "Yo, Captain."

"Yo," I replied casually.

Next to him was Cora.

The mermaid lazily kicked her feet around on the damp fabric that was previously soaking wet with water. In her hands was one of Sawada's mangas and by the looks of it the same series he was still reading back at base. The sniper had read the manga so many times that he translated each sentence for Cora as she flipped through the pages. I lowered myself onto the air mattress with a second M107A1 Anti-Material Rifle set up. Pulling myself up to the rifle, I shouldered the heavy weapon and flicked the scope covers open.

"Anything interesting going on?" I muttered, bored.

"Not really," Sawada sighed, "but there has been this one man. He's sitting in the blow out room at the top of the keep. And he's looking straight at us."

"What?" I asked bewildered by Sawada's proclamation, "you're joking. He's staring at us?"

"I'm not joking, Captain. Whenever I make eye contact with him I get this knot in my stomach like my flight or fight response is starting to kick in. It's not normal," Sawada replied.

"You can't even see the guy's eyes from here…" I muttered.

Pushing my cheek against the plastic cheek well, I stared through the Leupold scope. I twisted magnification all the way up. Nine hundred meters away stood the crumbled in roof of the top floor. I could see a reddish dash of color smeared inside the gray walls of the keep's. Inside the collapsed in walls sat a shape no smaller than a couple centimeters in size. Like a chair had been purposefully dragged there sat a figure that was slightly larger than the average man. While we were almost a kilometer apart, I felt like I could see him sitting right in front of me. Sharp canines bared in a large wry grin with malicious intent. Like a vision apparating in front of me, I could see his glowing red eyes that exuded something I couldn't really put into words. It made my heart race, stomach churn and it left my mouth dry. It was one of many feelings I hadn't abundantly felt in a while – fear.

I recoiled from the sudden sensation and glanced towards Sawada, "you weren't joking."

"See!" Sawada hissed, "I'm already getting a bad feeling about this…"

My eyes narrowed to slits. The indomitable man had this aura around him that kept me glued to the scope. Both genuine curiosity and unnatural fear made me examine him in detail. Throughout the hours I spent next to Sawada and Cora, my eyes were kept solely on him. There was nothing for me to study except for his finely made armor and large weapon. He sat in the lavishly decorated wooden chair for hours just staring back at me. If he knew that we were here, why not just send his men after us now? Twenty-seven men to three thousand was an easy win I would say. I would understand all in due time why he waited for us with such malice filled anticipation. Time seemed to quicken when I locked eyes with him. The knot in my stomach remained as the darkened overcast skies turned a pitch black. It was only then when he disappeared into the dark of night did that knot go away.

I glanced to my right to see Sawada rubbing his eyes before chewing on a piece of jerky. Cora was next to him, snoozing peacefully as orange dots flickered to life below us in the valley. Torches were being lit while sounds of loud merry songs erupted in the air. Yelling and screaming from the pre-war feast echoed through the hills. Sawada and I continued to watch over the concentrated masses of bandits, warriors, ex-guards and raiders celebrate their largest battle yet. Sex, drinking, games, brawls, duels, you name it, they were doing all the activities. Robed figures stood on tall towers, their hands waving around in ritualistic rhythm to preparing wards and spells. The more disciplined of the warriors were sharpening their blades and axes while the Ogres continued to eat and roar like feral beasts lusting for blood.

Sawada and I were both relieved by Akagi deep into the night.

We climbed back down the rope and walked down the stairs with our legs wobbling like Jell-O from inactivity. Cora sleepily stumbled towards the two HMVs, sliding into her sleeping bag without much effort. I pulled off my combat shirt, tossing it over my plate carrier and rucksack. Our shower was a simple one. One that didn't even include water. I simply pulled out baby wipes and wiped down my entire body. The white, soft glycerin filled fabric smeared the liquid over my skin. The innocent white fabric quickly turned a dirty black from all the dust, dirt and bodily fluids as I threw them into a plastic bag. I was trying to be mindful and not litter in the world largely untouched by pollution. After wiping down, I plopped onto of my sleeping bag next to the already snoring Sawada and Okuda underneath the mosquito net. Despite having cleaned myself, I still felt a film of slime over my body. It wasn't as good as a normal shower by any stretch of the imagination.

Lying on the soft polyester, I started to reminisce about the final days of the Special Forces Group's selection course. A grueling seven-day training exercise that brings out the best and worst in members of the selected candidates. Done in secrecy, the final twenty remaining recruits were solely under my command. I was the only officer left standing in the course. The other office, a Captain from the 1st Airborne Brigade had recycled into the next course due to personal injury. The operation was a simple on the surface but complex underneath. Air drop into the swamps of Iriomote Island to conduct an assault on simulated enemy air defenses to pave the way for the main force.

The exercise was to test our teamwork, will and our ability to perform under stress.

"We've past point six," muttered a Master Sergeant Muto Haruki, my 2IC during selection, "right on schedule."

I gave the older man a nod. At thirty-six, Master Sergeant Muto Haruki was at the maximum of the allotted age. This would be his third and last shot at becoming a member of the Japanese Special Forces Group. Within a month's time would be his thirty-seventh birthday, the completion of the intensive ranger training would become the best birthday gift bar none.

All twenty-one of us were marching through chest height water in complete silence. The unprepared were gone from the course. Those that lived in the city all of their lives were eliminated due to unfamiliarity with the forest. The sound of water dripping off leaves and into the swamp water rang audibly in the night. Our Howa Type 89-F rifles were held above our heads to prevent the dirty water from fouling the weapon. Master Sergeant Muto held up his own weapon with one hand while the other held a waterproof map with red marker ink scribbled all over. He then shoved the map into his shoulder sleeve pocket and waved us to the right. Two trees blocked our passage onto dry land, its mangrove roots snaking out and into the water like a natural barricade. It would be a tight fit but there was enough space for everyone.

Turning around, I waved the other nineteen men towards the trees. We were without night vision devices. The only thing we had were our packs, weapons and vests. Dropped with the bare minimum equipment, we had to use what we had to conduct the operation. I moved with the formation towards the trees. Lifting up my own rifle, I looked through the standard issued Aimpoint CompM2 red dot sight attached to the rifle's short rail. I acted as rear security while Master Sergeant Muto went on land and counted off the men coming out from the swampy water. A series of loud splashes were heard from behind me. The men were exiting the water with heavy soaked gear, the liquid draining from their equipment. Minutes passed by slowly until a loud splash made me snap my head around.

"Ita!" grunted a soldier, I could hear him biting down hard to prevent sound from escaping his mouth.

"Daijoubuka? (You okay?)" I heard one of his teammates quickly asking, the splashing still continuing.

The soldier behind me was being helped by two of his comrades. They pulled him out from the murky water and dragged him onto land. Grunting with pain, I could see that he was trying to be suppress his natural reaction to yell. The three of them were the last men out of the water. I quickly moved out of the small basin, taking care not to get stuck in whatever he got injured on. Back on dry land, I swung my rifle around my back and pulled up both of his pant legs. Touching his left ankle, I heard a stifled grunt from him. The area was swollen as pain contorted his face.

"Form a defensive perimeter!" I hissed at the nineteen other soldiers, trying to look over their friend's shoulders.

One of the trained medics quickly jumped on the injured team member. Hands worked fast to create a splint for this sprained ankle. If he couldn't continue the course, all of it would be quickly over with the single glowing shot of a red flare gun high into the dark sky. Pained grumbles escaped from his tightly sealed lips. It was still a long walk from the target area. Four kilometers of hard marching before we could even start the operation. The medic soon finished his work and glanced towards me with a short nod to signal all that he could do. I moved towards the injured soldier and grabbed his left arm, helping him stand up. As his feet injured foot touched the ground another grunt came from his stomach.

"You good Kanai?" I asked the injured soldier.

"Yes sir," he answered back through gritted teeth.

"If you're not all you need to do is –" I started as he quickly cut me off.

"I'll be fine sir," he replied angrily, "I'd rather die now than quit."

I gave him a simple nod, understanding his unyielding determination.

It was the same with my own.

"Tanabe, Furuta, help Kanai. Ando, you carry his ruck," I ordered, the three men quickly jumped to action without hesitation, "we have four kilometers to cover in forty-five minutes. That's roughly ninety meters a minute but Kanai's injured and we don't leave anyone behind. Strap in because these last few hours are going to _suck._ "

Everyone nodded in reply, a steely visage displayed on each of the men.

My eyes closed to sleep as the memories replayed vividly through my mind. Fresh like it was just yesterday, we had assaulted the position and completed our objective. The wounded Kanai passed the final test and was admitted into the Special Forces Group despite his injury. Through sheer determination, he had dug in deep to march the grueling four kilometers in thirty minutes, even going so far as to use his sprained ankle to help us move much faster. It was also unknown to us that instructors were constantly observing us through thermal binoculars and night vision goggles. Someone was always watching. Kanai was assigned to the 2nd Special Forces Group Company, 3rd Platoon specializing in mountain warfare. His team was reassigned to safeguard the northern island of Hokkaido. The last I saw him was the graduation ceremony held for family members. Actually, that was the last time I saw most of the men that I went through Q course with since they were quickly assigned to Special Forces Group companies.

All the men in AFO Susanowo were Ranger qualified save for Kazuki and Akagi.

Everyone understood and knew that training entailed.

"Captain," I heard a voice calling out to me.

No sooner had I closed my eyes, I had snapped them open to see Ige.

I felt like I didn't sleep at all.

"What is it?" I grunted as I got up from my sleeping bag with my eyes burning.

"Raiden is an hour and a half away. Ishihara wants you to confirm the Tomahawk strikes with the Ashigara since you're the CO," Ige mumbled, I could see that he was just woken up, "Okuda, Sanada and Kazuki are up on the ridge with Cael. Tanuki's coming over from Hill 384 to support us when we're moving into keep. Kitsune will hold Hill 384 while Tanuki's here at Hill 402. Akagi's also up on the watch tower."

"Get Ishihara and Sawada on the valley to spot for artillery. Get Cael and Cora back inside the HMV. You and Okuda will be on rear security. Understood?" I ordered as Ige nodded, "one more thing, tell everyone to kit up for CQC."

"Yosh!" Ige yelled moderately loudly and rolled his shoulders, "it's time to get down to business! I just hope I, like, don't get sliced by assassins or anything."

"You'll be fine Ige. You're an SBU boatman remember?" I assured the VBSS (Visit Board Search and Seizure) trained soldier.

"It's just that I'm more comfortable in water than on land but…," Ige visibly shut his mouth before spewing more of his nervous thought train and turned around to go about his duty.

The ox had a habit of becoming chatty before the beginning of a large combat operation. While each one of had ways to rid of the jitters, this was Ige's.

I yawned once more and shook my body, patting my face in an attempt to wake up fully. It didn't really work but it was worth a try. I carefully slipped on the plate carrier and rubber flotation vest pulling out most of the magazines already loaded into the ten front pouches and four side pouches. My hands went to the front pouch dedicated solely to ammunition. A load of subsonic, armor piercing, ball and tracer ammunition was pushed into the now empty pouches. Grenades for the unused grenade launcher attachment on my rifle were loaded into eight bands on the right side of my armor. A mix of HEDP (High Explosive Dual Purpose), air-burst, thermobaric and flare rounds were shoved inside. One by one, the members quietly came to gear up. I clipped my OpsCore helmet to the rear of my rucksack and gave Ishihara a nod as I climbed into the passenger seat of the HMV.

"Ashigara's on the phone," Ishihara said as he handed me the radiophone, "I've confirmed the strike coordinates for you. All you need to do you authorize the strike."

"Ryokai," I murmured and shoved the radiophone between my headset and ear, "Ashigara, Okami."

"Okami, Ashigara, coordinates confirmed. Requesting authorization and identification for strike," replied the female radio operator.

"Ashigara this is Okami, identification One Eight Alpha One Tac One Eight Sierra. I, Captain Anderson Ryu authorize pre-planned fire mission number one five six niner on MSTAR coordinates. Target is Min Keep and surrounding fortifications, how copy?" I spoke into the radio.

"Solid copy Okami. Authorization and identification confirmed. Stand by, executing pre-planned fire mission one five six niner on MSTAR coordinates," there was a pause. A few seconds ticked by uneventfully before there was activity on the radiophone, "confirm twelve birds away. Navigation modes, INS, TERCOM and DSMAC. Estimated time on target. One hour and five minutes."

"Copy Ashigara," I grunted, the launching of the tomahawk was ordinary to say the least, "I'll give you a BDA (Bomb Damage Assessment) when the birds hit. Okami out."

Handing the radiophone back to Ishihara, I got out of the HMV and headed down the hill towards the concealed watch point. Drops of water splattered onto my combat shirt as I stepped out of the tree's protective embrace. A light drizzle had settled in. Thunder rumbled through the sky lighting up the clouds momentarily with a purplish hue. Skinny tendrils shot out ominously in the skies above. I took a sniff of the earthy air and continued walking down the slope. I could feel it in my bones that today was the day. Not once did the sun poke through even though it was still well before sunset, before the dusk would arrive. The only evidence that it was even day was the lighter shade of grey in the sky.

A low fallen log was chosen to be the temporary watch point. Flanked by trees, it was an easily covered hide. Dig below the stump and slide underneath, it was a well camouflaged ditch. Approaching the makeshift fox hole, I spotted a pair of tan combat boots depressed into the dirt. Laying in the ditch with his weapon was Okuda. He had his boonie hat on and his combat OpsCore helmet clipped to the side of his vest. His ruck was propped up on the fallen stump with small glints from the reflective strips signaling his position.

I slipped in beside him, crawling up to the lip of the ditch.

"Bored, Ryu?" chuckled Okuda.

"It's the calm before the storm Kuma (Bear)," I replied using Okuda's nickname, "I'd be pissing my pants if I was still normal infantry."

"What just sitting in your barracks cleaning the bathroom, cleaning your weapon, doing PT, then the occasional weapons training not good enough for you?" Okuda breathed, staring through his weapon sights.

"No. That's boring stuff compared to what we do now," I replied and rolled over.

"Friendlies!" came a whisper from behind us.

I flipped my night vision monocular device over and looked up too see a group of armed soldiers huffing towards us. Dressed in Type IV camouflage, the nine men marched up the steep incline and towards us with their boonie hats on. In their hands were customized HK416s issued as their infantry weapons. A vary variety of optics, grips and paints were applied to the previously black rifle. All with the operator's own money of course. We were allowed to purchase and install commercially available accessories but they came out of our own pockets. Each of the men's weapons were heavily customized which signified years of use being assigned to one member for a significant number of time.

Okuda and I slipped out from our hide, lifting up our left hand in a casual greeting. There were no salutes between Special Forces Group members. It was a habit that was adopted quickly after the other SF groups after Iraq and Afghanistan to make it harder for snipers to discern a commanding officer. That and there were almost no lines between NCOs (Non-Commissioned Officers) and officers except for the issuing of orders. But, that was left up to individual team leaders and how they went about commanding their own units.

There was a pause as the second man in the group glanced at me with his eyes squinting, "First Lieutenant Anderson?"

"Who are you again?" I asked.

"It's me Master Ser-, well it's actually First Lieutenant Muto Haruki," replied the man as he stepped closer.

"Muto!" I yelled in surprise reaching out my hand to the older man, "I didn't expect to see you here! I was just thinking of you."

"You too First Lieutenant, well…after all there's only three hundred or so of us. We're bound to run across each other sometime," the older man grinned, I didn't recognize him at all under that camouflage paste smeared across their faces.

"That's Captain too you as well First Lieutenant," I laughed as we pulled each other close, our bodies bumping in pound hug, "four years and you've made it from Master Sergeant to First Lieutenant? I'm impressed Muto."

"Well, after being assigned to a platoon I took the promotion test and got bumped up to second lieutenant. We were then quickly deployed to Somalia in anti-pirate operations. The sups. decided that I did a great job and promoted me again. But being a first lieutenant makes me feel a bit awkward," he replied, I nodded to Okuda as he resumed his watch over the lower hill.

"You're forty now right?" I asked, leading the nine men towards our HMVs.

"Yeah and thanks for reminding me that I'm old…Captain," there was a pause as Muto was adjusting himself to call me by my new rank.

As we walked towards the HMVs, the two of us passed by the vehicles and instead headed for the ridgeline overlooking the small valley. Ishihara and Sawada were already crouched dangerously on the edge of the hill's sheer downwards slope. Their helmets were off and boonie hats on. Ishihara had his M249 sitting beside him, propped up by its integrated bi-pod. While Ishihara stared through binoculars, Sawada had his eyes glued to the scope of his G28 fitted with a sound suppressor. Both Muto and I slid in next to them. Our feet dangled dangerously off the edge of the short cliff ending in a series of steeply sloped hills and bare faced vertical sides. Pebbles slid off the peak, tumbling downwards before entering a freefall just inches off the side.

Rain continued to drizzle down on us with thunder sounding ever close. Wind picked up from the lake, traveling fast as it blew grass free from the ground and dirt into our clothing. A storm was closing and rain would increase in the coming minutes. Below us, flickering flames were continued to be nurse on torches lighting up the valley like splotches of orange color. Some flames would flicker out while others would burn anew. Wooden fortifications were installed with pointed stumps aimed at the incoming attackers. Groups of warriors with tall shields lined every sixth to eighth row to provide sufficient cover when the lines were pushed back. Whether the tall shields would protect against bullets from the JSDF, I would have to see. Ogres manned strategic positions with small holes dug around them filled with giant boulders they were to throw at our mechanized units. The high ground was ours and the enemy knew it. Most of their experienced forces were withdrawn towards the keep with cannon fodder and slaves used to sandwich the funnel in an attempt to slow us down enough for the catapults and ballistae to do damage.

They would have another thing coming.

"So you're in commanding of the mythical Susanowo unit?" Muto asked as I nodded, pulling out the cables for a second radio.

"Well," I shrugged as I attempted to untangle the mess of wires from my admin pouch, "I wouldn't say it was mythical…is it mythical?"

"You got to go train all over the world, get access to weapons we don't have, I'd say it's pretty damn mythical," Muto said with a laugh.

"It's not all fun and games Muto. We never stay more than a month in any given country. Jungle warfare with Royal Thai Force Recon, Indonesian Kopassus, Malaysian Grup Gerak Khas. Arctic Warfare with the Canadian JTF 2, Swedish Special Operations Task Group, and the Danish Sirius Patrol. Naval Operations with America's Seal Team Six, SWCC, Force Recon to name a few. We constantly moved for a year, maybe a year and a half. It was grueling and even after all that we're still a jack of all trades kind of team never a master of anything," I sighed, venting to a fellow officer.

"At least you get sent out often right?" Muto murmured, pulling out a small cigarette and placing it between his lips.

"Eh," I shrugged, "we've had a couple ops here and there. Just before coming here we were guarding the embassy, some low speed stuff to get acquainted to the region. You guys been here long?"

"Month twelve and counting," Muto laughed as he rolled the cigarette between his lips, never lighting the stick of tobacco, "I was there for the Battle of Italica. It was our third deployment as a unit, first deployment in the region. Laughing stock. The bandits didn't even stand a chance. Then we were on point for the Siege of the Jade Palace, the intervention anyway, we secured the western gate along with three other SF units. Smooth as a baby's bottom that one."

"You liking this place?" I asked, staring up at the thunder skies rippling with blue, purple and white streaks of light.

"Yeah," sighed Muto as he took a draw from the unlit cigarette, "much better than being stuck at Narashino. Tall buildings and skyscrapers…an urban jungle. Here? It's all open fields and green grass with trees as far as the eye can see. Feels liberating."

"What no thoughts of just dropping your weapon, taking off your gear and laying down in the grass for one day?" I asked with a chuckle.

"Do I look like infantry to you? This is a vacation compared to Earth!" Muto laughed.

I glanced at my analog Casio watch, "Ah, it's about time. Dropping…"

Thunder continued to rumble as the drizzle turned into heavy rain. And when it rains, it pours. The four of us sat there soaking in the wet, the water, the suck. Strong winds picked up ripping at the trees with frighteningly quick gales. Leaves, branches and pebbles were picked off the ground and thrown into the air. My boonie hat threatened to pull itself away from my head were it not for the piece of string securing it firmly. Eyes squinted to keep rain water out as I glanced towards the lake. Sounds of roaring men and women took the skies with a deep guttural war cry. For a moment the sound of activity seemed to stop, over taken by the distant grumbling of vehicle engines far to my right. Streaking through the skies, parting rain water like a bullet moving through air, I spotted multiple cylinders soaring just below the speed of sound between the flashes of thunder and lightning.

Teardrops curving through the skies in lethal elegance.

"…now."

The cylinders dropped from the sky right on top of strategic targets with maximized accuracy. I watched as their sensors matched the radar data uploaded from the MSTAR with their sensors. One or two veered off course by a few dozen meters but nevertheless impacting within acceptable parameters. With eerie precision, each of the twenty-four Tomahawk Land Attack Missiles slammed into their designated targets. Four hundred and fifty kilograms of high explosive blossomed in a bright orange ball of flame and shrapnel. Dirt was thrown into the air, stone structures crumbled and flesh pulverized by the powerful missiles. The coordinated strike shook the earth with the ferocity of an earthquake. The three thousand souls fighting for the keep winced in unison, cries of surprise and confusion erupting from the ranks. I brought my own binoculars to my eyes, seeing multiple siege weapons in splinters, groups of tamed dragons laying still, ogres without limbs and hemorrhaging profusely from large wounds. Mages were unable to keep up, their shields up too late as the Tomahawks slammed into the ground did a shimmering dome swell up along the castle walls. My right hand switched on the second radio to monitor the other frequency.

"Sa sa! Iku zou! (Alright, alright! Here we go!)" the voice buzzing in my left ear belonged to no other than Colonel Kengun, "Raiden, engage at will! Advance into the valley!"

"Raiden, this is Shelldrake, executing fire mission. Fire for effect, mid-valley! Two rounds of illumination! Time on target thirty-six seconds! Stand by for rounds," screamed the crew of the Type 99 155mm Self-Propelled Howitzer.

"Shelldrake, Shelldrake, Okami, we are standing by for round observation," I squeezed the transmit switch of the second radio on my left shoulder strap.

"Roger that Okami!" the artillery yelled in reply as loud explosive thumps were heard in the background, "rounds complete!"

I glanced at my analog wristwatch once again, watching the hands ticking down.

Like clockwork, the rounds exploded in a brilliant ball of whitish orange. Six orbs of light fizzled down with a visible trail of smoke that was quickly blown away by the winds. All rounds were more or less on target with the exception of the turbulent gales swatting at the floating radiant orbs of light. The entire valley was lit up by the flares in an intense burst of luminosity. Many of the fighters down below raised their hands to shield their night adjusted eyes to cope with the sudden change in light. I too found myself squeezing my eyes shut to try and preserve night vision to no avail.

"Shelldrake, Okami, good rounds on target. No adjustment needed, Okami out," I reported, scooting back from the ridgeline and standing up, "Ishihara, Sawada, you guys got Raiden on comms?"

The two nodded.

"Direct artillery fire for me. I'm going to go to Ikeda and see what's up with the Ashigara," I yelled.

Sawada gave me a thumbs-up as Muto quickly followed behind me.

It was a brisk walk to the HMV.

Ikeda's eyes glanced towards the two of us and his hand immediately outstretched with a radiophone held tightly in his grasp. I grabbed the radiophone and held it up to my ear, squeezing the transmit switch without another word.

"Ashigara, Okami, BDA (Bomb Damage Assessment)," I spoke into the radio phone.

"Okami, Ashigara, send report," came the swift and static filled answer.

"Ashigara, Okami, report is as follows. All twenty-four TLAMs are on target," I paused hearing the volley bang whumps cracking like thunder in the sky from the Type 10's 120mm and Type 94's 105mm rifled gun, "four of twenty four splash within Cee Eee Pee. Targets eliminated, no follow-on shots required."

"Solid copy Okami. Ashigara standing by for further strike support. Ashigara out," I heard the reply and handed Ikeda back the radiophone.

My attention turned to the resting special forces soldiers sprawled out underneath the protective netting of our HMV. Their weapons were neatly propped up against the vehicle and their boonie hats off. They were resting before the next mission, taking each second and each minute to regain their strength before going back out again. Most of them were far younger than the men in my own unit. I came to the realization as Muto and I started chatting away while we waited for our next orders were that most of them had recently joined the unit. Out of the nine, only two were experienced soldiers. Seven of them had either transferred to a different unit or retired before the Gate even appeared. It must have been hard on Muto to get acquainted with his team while on deployment. Only a hundred and fifty of us were in the region.

One-third of our elite force was here in this new land.

"Captain!" Ikeda called out, "Raiden needs a FAC (Forward Air Controller) for an incoming flight of F-2Bs!"

I glanced to Muto, "you coming with?"

"I'm forty now don't you remember Anderson?" he chuckled as I pulled out a large pack from the rear of the HMV, "give me some time to rest. But…uh…Seo! Join the Captain at the ridgeline. You're the one training for a FAC qualification aren't you? Let a professional show you how it's done."

"Hai~," said the young soldier with feigned enthusiasm.

I nodded to Muto who joined his own squad to rest as one of his men sprung up from the ground. He grabbed his boonie hat and shoved it on his head while snatching his weapon from the row of varying HK417s. A man's weapon often spoke volumes for the user and Seo seemed to be extrovert, decorating his weapon with strange new camouflage patterns compared to Akagi's plain flat dark earth G28. Splotches of black, shades of white and grey crisscrossed the weapon in a hexagonal pattern similar to the new Kryptek camouflage scheme. A Magpul foregrip and angled grip both were attached to the front of his standard length HK417 with a flashlight/laser combo box and spiked fore end suppressor. On the weapon itself hung a golden yakuyoke omamori (Ward Away Evil Lucky Charm) with its ropes taped together with electrical tape for added protection. The charm itself was worn, caked with dirt and the color in its threads were starting to fade.

"Sergeant Seo Motonobu at your service Captain," he gave me an enthused nod as we made our way up the hill.

"Captain Anderson Ryu," I returned his nod, "wife give you that charm Sergeant?"

"No sir. It's actually girlfriend. She's still on the fence about marriage since her parents don't really support it. It's actually about me being in the JGSDF and they don't know that I'm actually special forces. All they know is that I'm in the army and working behind a desk…which is what I told my girlfriend," he blurted out, spilling out the entire information of his current marital status.

"And they know you're in the special region?" I asked.

"Yes sir, sometimes I act like I'm in the capital where there's no phone signal when we're about to go on a mission…" Seo mumbled back as the two of us quickly reached the peak of the hill, walking with extended strides.

"I can't give you any advice…" I chuckled, "I'm not married myself."

"Ehhh~, I thought you were a model husband from the moment I saw you Captain! You act like a father of a very well disciplined household judging from you commanding the rumored Susanowo unit," Seo replied in surprise, the two of us plopping down a few meters up away from Sawada and Ishihara.

"I'm married to my work," I gave Seo a pathetic reply and smiled, tuning into a new frequency on the second radio, "Okami."

"Okami this is Ryu 11, mission number 0112. Two by F-2Bs, currently north of Honda. Five hundred and eleven rounds of twenty mike-mike, four by GBU-54. Laser codes Ryu 11 is 1688, Ryu 12 is 1831, instantaneous and delayed fusing for GBU-54. Playtime plus thirty. Ryu 11 is FAC(A) capable. Both aircraft are FLIR, and CAT II coordinate generation capable. Timber Sweet, Ryu 11 VDL code 4922. Ryu 12, VDL code 4972," came a familiar voice.

"Ryu 11, Okami, copy check-in. AO update. I am a qualified JTAC (Joint Terminal Attack Controller) commanding a special forces unit three hundred and fifty meters southeast of Min Keep. This will be a type II control (used when JTAC maintains control of individual attack but either visual acquisition of attacking aircraft or the target at weapons release is not possible or required). We have one thousand fighters currently in contact with our troops in the valley and another two thousand defending the keep. Multiple air to air fighters in form of tamed dragons and multiple triple A. Stay northwest of friendly artillery operating sixteen nautical miles north west. Say when ready for 9-LINE," I briefed the fighter jets flying far above the rumbling thunderstorms as I pulled out a laminated map marked with thick ink.

"Ryu 11, ready for 9-LINE," replied the fighter jet.

I switched radio frequencies once again, "Raiden Actual, Okami, we are observing for fixed-wing jets. What targets you need us to hammer? Over."

"It'll be good if you strike that entire valley!" yelled back Colonel Kengun, "our tanks are having a hard time pushing past all the dead bodies when there are defensive siege engines still active. Our friends from the Empire who joined us mid-way aren't making headway either."

Wait, what? Friends from the Empire? I thought.

I wasn't about to be a stickler about rules and not having been briefed prior to the battle about additional forces. As the illumination fizzled out and plunged the valley into a brief darkness. Seconds later as thunder struck, the orbs of brilliant light exploded to provide light for the JSDF forces below. My eyes glanced over to the tanks leading the push into the formation. Their treads, side skirts and lower front hull were coated in dripping red liquid. Blood dripped with their every move from the powerful rumbling engine. A loud bang whump echoed down the valley as a ball of fire quickly shot out of their barrel and disappeared into the heavy rain. Men just fifty meters in front of the tanks folded into the ground like an entire board of guess who being flipped down all at once. Those that were closer than fifty meters had their ear drums instantly popped and were lying on the ground from either sheer pain or confusion. Like a moving steam roller, the canister rounds leveled hundreds of men in a matter of seconds. It was a no contest until flaming boulders and giant darts occasionally sailed into the sky, inaccurately landing in front of and behind the tanks.

"Ishihara! I need smoke on those emplacements!" I screamed at the machine gunner as he nodded.

There was a pause before he turned to me, "red smoke! Time on target thirty-eight seconds!"

I nodded and squeezed the transmit switch, "Ryu 11, this is Okami, IP Honda heading two-niner-two for nineteen nautical miles. Seven hundred feet MSL, target is siege engines in and behind the valley. Marked with red Willy Pete. Friendlies are one-one-five for seven five zero meters. Egress north of Honda for three nautical miles then turn left heading two-niner-two for nineteen nautical miles. Final attack heading, two-four-zero to zero-zero-zero. Stand by plus forty, hack. Advise when ready for remarks and further talk-on."

There was another pause as a thunderous bang impacted the earth.

Red smoke started to plume in the falling rain just at the exit of the valley leading to the keep.

"Ready to copy remarks," came the brief reply.

"Request GBU-54," I said, reaching into my rucksack to pull out a large set of binoculars and its tri-pod.

"700, siege engines in and behind the valley, final attack heading 240 to 000."

"Read back correct. Cleared in for visual," I responded.

My hands quickly extended the tri-pod and mounted the large binocular on top. The AN/PED-1 Lightweight Laser Designator Rangefinder was anything but lightweight. Weighing in at sixteen kilometers, it weighed more than most weapons including the heavy Panzerfaust 3 anti-tank missile launcher. I quickly set-up the codes for the first aircraft in the attack. The sounds of battle still reverberated down below. Men screamed in battle frenzy, pain and agony. Metal machines continued to spit fire with bangs, whumps and rapid staccatos of thirty-five-millimeter hellfire. My eyes scanned the pitch-black sky crisscrossed with the occasional tendril of purple lightning as large drops of rain continued to pour down on us, turning mud into soupy puddles of quicksand-like dirt. Eventually, the distinct screeching banshee like wail screamed in the skies far above.

I couldn't see the aircraft.

My stomach started to turn upside down, inside out and into knots hopping the pilot didn't freeze up. We had trained for moments like these but they were far and few in between. One in twenty missions were in completely deteriorated conditions with absolute ground cloud cover. To make it worse, those one in twenty were in the day. With each passing second the pilot was wasting, the chance of men getting injured by the largely inaccurate large caliber weapons became an increasing possibility.

A close formation of green and red blinking lights flashed into existence at the end of the valley. I could see the aircraft low over the two hills. Cloud cover was a low and dismal two thousand five hundred feet. That left only one thousand feet between the hill tops and the bottom of the lowest cloud layer. It seemed like a lot of empty air but flying at six hundred and fifty kilometers per hour, it was a harrowingly quick pace between life and death. Flying under the cover of darkness in turbulent weather and with flaming arrows and boulders had a pucker factor of 10. It would scare any inexperienced or non-battle-hardened aviator. The difficulty of the mission was dialed all the way to the right. The only thing more challenging would be to fly close air support in the same conditions except with a tropical depression or a hurricane.

A dark bluish camouflage painted twin seater F-2B zipped past over head in seconds, barely flying high enough and banking to clear the floating parachute illumination. Heat from the exhaust vaporized drops of water producing a heavy mirage effect of the falling hot air streaming behind the Viper Zero. Streaks of frothing water flowed out from behind the missile equipped wingtips of the F-2B flying at the speed of heat. I watched the aircraft zoom past the keep and came very close to clipping Min Keep before pulling straight up in afterburner. Rain, water and air compressed into sheets of condensed water vapor white over both wings and fuselages of the Viper Zero sending it rocketing up and into the clouds with its heavy payload.

Minutes would pass after the bluish aircraft was consumed by the darkened clouds of thunder and rain.

"Ryu 11, Okami," I spoke into the thin microphone directly in front of my lips.

I waited for a few seconds before trying again, hoping that it was electrical interference or short-term radio malfunction.

"Ryu 11, Okami," I repeated into the headset.

No reply.

My patience was wearing thin and so was time.

"Kenji!" I screamed and cursed on the headset, making Seo jump, "get your fucking act together! This isn't a training mission anymore and lives are on the fucking line! Now do your job or I'm going to rip that eagle and cherry blossom from your chest! Take a deep breath, man up because the troops on the ground are counting on you for munitions on target!"

Shellshock.

It was a condition most newly transferred soldiers from Japan faced when going into large battle. Everything seemed all too real as if it was in a dream. Sometimes, if the soldier stayed still enough he'd wake up from the horrible nightmare that was war, chaos and destruction. Unfortunately, the relief of waking up would never come. It was a living nightmare on the battlefield. The frequency was for FACs and JTACs only, fortunately only a handful of us was monitoring the channel and my scolding was necessary to bring Kenji back from the brink of inaction.

There was another tense silence as I gave Kenji, Ryu 11, time to put himself back into the mindset of being in an actual war and not a vacation in the Mediterranean.

"O-Okami, Ryu 11, eyes on s-s-siege engines around the end of the valley," Kenji stuttered back a reply.

"Ryu 11, Okami, cleared hot. GBU-54 1688," I grunted back, calm and understand of his situation.

Red Flag Alaska, hell, no training simulation big enough would prepare anyone for this except for those who have been in the heat of combat back on Earth.

My eyes were constantly scanning the skies after I had instructed Seo to prepare to paint the target. The wailing of the single F110-HIN-129 never came. It was rather anti-climactic as the battle below continued to wage onwards. Death waits for no man. A series of loud bangs shook the earth around me, shaking stones from the ground and causing weaker trees to topple. A gust of wind from below blew my boonie hat clear of my head, my hands barely moving fast enough to smack them back down onto my lengthening hair. Artillery had pockmarked the ground with a deadly salvo of 155mm brimstone to deadly effect. Bodies flew into the air, dismembered torn limb from limb.

I would try to contact Kenji again, only to hear another voice loud in my ears.

"Okami, this is Ryu 12, taking over for Ryu 11. Second Lieutenant Nakajima Inko flying and First Lieutenant Kazama Satoshi as WSO. Confirm that 9-LINE is still current," a female voice stated loud in my ears.

"Ryu 12, 9-LINE is still current. Cleared in for visual," I quickly replied.

Within a few dozen seconds, I could hear the distant rumbling of the aircraft's engine accompanying the thunder. Blinking lights flickered far in the distance. Second Lieutenant Nakajima did the right thing and descended far behind the actual battle itself compared to the impulsive Kenji, scaring himself into inaction. He was probably breathing hard and glancing down at the picture of his loved ones. After all, he was married and with kids unlike me. He had more to lose by dying. Nakajima's F-2B flew nap of the earth, skimming the rolling hills at speed with only twenty to fifty feet to spare. The rumbling grew quickly in volume as the bluish aircraft quickly covered the large distance in the blink of an eye. It pitched up, rolling over inverted as the roar of the engine blasted overhead just above the hill I stood on. I could feel the impressive heat that was hot enough to steam the water droplets standing meters away from the exhaust. The aircraft completed its roll and pulled a hard right and up back into the sky.

"Okami, Ryu 12, visual ID on target at the mouth of the valley marked by red smoke. Requesting bomb drop with laser guidance," grunted back Nakajima, straining from the high-G maneuver.

"Ryu 12, cleared to engage," I replied.

Another brief moment as respite as thunder crackled above me, a reminder of the dangerous layer that the pilots had to fly though. While able to fly through a thunderstorm and get struck by lightning, pilots and mission planners seldom fly them through such turbulent situations. Surges in avionics and munition cook-offs were a possibility in addition the added risk of being a combat pilot braving the dangerous projectiles slicing through the air.

"Okami, Ryu 12, in hot from the southeast. Heading two-five-eight. Ten seconds," briefed Nakajima as I looked to Seo and nodded.

"Ryu 12, ten seconds. Laser on. 1831," I replied.

Rumbling from the F-2B once again shook the skies. They were flying low, just above the floating orbs of orange light. Boulders sailed dangerously just feet below while arrows were fired in volleys. A swarm of burning metal and thin wood soared brightly in the sky, water being unable to put out the grease slicked arrows. Nakajima braved the sea of burning projectiles and hurled stone. Wings of the Viper Zero were heavy with five hundred pound bombs and two fuel tanks that took them to and from Alnus Hill with a single tanker flying a racetrack just five hundred kilometers away. After Ryu 1 had checked out from the area, it would be another fifty minutes at least before the next pair of aircraft could split off from the tanker to stay on station. Four aircraft packages were on duty. Two were on their way from Alnus and the other was guarding the vulnerable tanker alone high in the sky just five hundred kilometers away.

"Ryu 12, two away. Eight seconds," Nakajima grunted between breaths.

I watched two small cylinders split from the wings of the F-2B. Both bombs wiggled slightly from separation as their fins stabilized their drop. Their downward fall became stable upon tracking the invisible ray of infrared light, riding the beam towards its target. I watched the two tear drops disappear into the tightly packed mass of warriors, ogres and slaves. The result was both petrifying and ghastly. In the blink of an eye a towering stack of smoke shot far up into the sky but not high enough to even reach the crackling clouds. A mixture of red, wooden splinters from obliterated siege engines, bodies and body parts were thrown in to the air. Like a movie with delayed sound, screams of despair and shock came just seconds after the two JDAMs had annihilated the ground below them. As a blast of air slammed into our bodies like a light breeze on a calm day despite the raging storm from the shockwave the two bombs caused accompanying the sound of a dull boom. Sound traveled far slower than light. The cloud of grey and black continued to expand, swaying slowly along with the strong winds as the orange glow vanished.

The flares from the artillery ran out of fuel.

"Ryu 12, Okami, good rounds on target. Return to IP Honda and stand by," I replied as another noise crackled in my ear.

"Okami, Ryu 12 copies. I apologize for my flight lead. Ryu 12 out."

I sighed, one filled with frustration and disappointment for Kenji yet there was also an understanding.

"Kitsune," came the brief call.

"Kitsune, go for message," I murmured back.

"It's plus thirty minutes after operation's begun. Time for us to do our part," reminded Ikeda as I ran my left hand down my face.

"Copy that," I muttered and glanced to Seo, "stay here. I'll get someone to replace me. We need people here constantly controlling the jets and artillery until they're relieved or we're relieved."

"Yes sir," Seo quickly replied with confidence, "you can count on me sir."

Walking back, I was vigorously rubbing the rapidly growing five o'clock shadow on my face. My thoughts were deeply throbbing in my mind. Distrust was starting to grow inside me with a military force that was grown accustomed to peace despite the various training we went through month to month. Even the Japanese people no longer viewed us as a standing army ready to defend the country instead they now viewed us as a well-trained and well equipped disaster relief force. The image coupled with the defense force's constant need to alleviate the problems caused by the nearby bases to the residential community reflected its unpreparedness in its soldiers. Sure, not every soldier was not unreliable but not being able to count on troops in its most needed moment was a disconcerting thought that made me shiver.

We would be on a boat filled with inexperienced crew.

If we were stranded on an island in the midst of a huge battle, what would happen?

I shuddered at the thought.

"Captain," Muto greeted once again, instantly standing up as I approached.

I held up my right hand in a reply, "Yo. We're moving out soon but my two snipers will be on standby when the main gate's about to be open. I'll need you to take over as per the briefed battle plan."

"Doing the cool stuff again eh Captain?" Muto asked with a large smile.

"You've already done the same thing during the intervention didn't you? Give my team a chance to experience it Muto. You greedy bastard," I said and patted the older man on the back.

"Good luck Captain," a few of the members from Muto's team grunted as they got up to rotate out with my own team.

"If you need anything just give me a holler on channel eight. Oh and we'll need someone to drive us down to the base of the hill. I'm not rappelling down four hundred and eight meters in this thunderstorm," I said.

"Of course not after all you're Mountain Troop," Muto said sarcastically as I gave him a playful punch on the bicep, "I'll drive you down Captain, don't worry about it."

"Awesome," I replied curtly and squeezed the transmit switch strapped to my plate carrier, "everyone except for Akagi and Sawada, group up at the HMV. It's time for phase two of Operation Cronus."

Seconds would quickly pass as my men filed in and Muto's men rotated out to replace them. Equipment was moved from the second HMV to give enough space for the seven of us to ride inside. The covered rear deck was slick with rain water as we began our final gear checks. An air filled vest was strapped underneath our plate carriers to act as a floatation device to help us swim to the surface in strong surf. Weapons were triple-checked for both ammo and batteries. Sanada and Okuda were given the M870 MCS with a shortened barrel and removed stock loaded with breaching shells. Ishihara and Kazuki were also equipped with tasers guns inside waterproof holsters that were quickly strapped to their already cramped battle belt for non-lethal takedowns. Ishihara and Sanada swapped out their personal M249s for HK417s. We didn't need the suppressive abilities of the two light machine guns since we were doing work in the shadows. It was also an ease of mind when you didn't have a ten-kilogram weapon that might as well be a rock wrapped around your neck when swimming or diving.

With the gear checks finished, we mounted the vehicle. Goodbyes were said to an exhausted Cael and a worried Cora. We waved farewell after promising to come back.

We would come back.

Muto directed us rocketing down the slope of the hill. His driving was so fast and reckless that even the usually stoic and expressionless Ikeda was wincing from fear of his life. Having it all end by crashing into a tree was not how he wanted to die. The HMV dropped several feet, jerked dangerously to the side and bounced along soupy ground. With each slam into the wet dirt, I could hear the grunt from my men weighed down by their equipment and fear for their own lives. Light from the artillery rounds lit up the sky once more. It was a relief that we only had to bring our smaller assault packs with ammunition, medical supplies and a few energy bars to sustain cravings we would have resting the middle of battle. In a slog that took thirty minutes or so to get up, Muto had driven us down within the matter of a few minutes driving as if it was a Toge mountain pass race. My body was nearly thrown off when Muto slammed the brakes, drifting the three-ton vehicle around the base of the hill to point back up towards the hill top.

"I think I'm going to be sick," burped Ikeda as he stumbled out of the vehicle.

"Where did you learn to drive like that, Muto," I groaned, "I barely held my dinner in."

"Ah, I was a miscreant back in my youth didn't you remember the story I told you during training? I grew up drifting cars and street racing. Never once did I get caught!" he yelled as I exited the vehicle, "you guys take care you hear?"

I gave him an exhausted farewell.

"You know your colleague is really insane Captain," Sanada huffed, bent over after being slightly dizzy from the hellishly fast drive.

"Not as insane as you sometimes are, Sanada," I grunted.

My eyes glanced over to the trail we were going to take. A gulp of saliva was unconsciously swallowed as I looked at the sea splashing into two-meter-tall rocks just a few dozen meters in front of us. We were going to have to brave an angry sea, swim at least a hundred to three hundred meters and crawl up the flattened shore nearby the keep that served as a small boat's landing all while navigating during the darkness with our heavy gear to meet the timetable of Operation Cronos. We had forty-five minutes left to get the main gate open for the assaulting force. It was a harsh demand, but we trained for the job and this was what we were going to do.

Never quit or die trying.

I took a deep breath and turned around, "listen up gentlemen! The time is 2050 hours, so make sure your watches are still synced. We have forty-five minutes to meet the battle plan's time table. Time to dig in deep because we are going to have to cover six hundred meters in that time and one-third of it is navigating through what might as well be a sea…even though it's a lake. We are going to be cold, we are going to be tired and we are going to be pushed to our limits. But this is what we're trained to do! This is what separates us Special Forces Group commandos from the boys in the infantry! Now let's get to it!"

"Yeah, yeah," Ikeda grumbled, pulling on his OpsCore helmet and shoving his boonie hat into his front pouch as he brushed past me, "let's just get on with it."

My eyes scowled at the passing 2IC and murmured, "I thought it was a good speech…"

"I thought it was so too Captain," smiled Sanada as I rolled my eyes and followed the Lieutenant.

Climbing up onto the rocks, I instinctively gulped once again.

An abyss opened into the great depths just a few steps in front of me. I shrugged off the moderately sized assault pack and pulled the SCAR-H behind my back, pulling the sling tight against my chest. The back of the buoyant pack hugged the front of my body. My hands shoved the boonie hat into the side pouches of the rucksack as I donned the OpsCore helmet for head protection in case my skull banged into rocks. Ikeda bravely stuck out his left foot and fearlessly hopped into the air. His frame disappeared into the churning waves below. For a few seconds, he seemed to be swallowed whole by the sea.

Gone.

A soft greenish light flickered to luminance in the swirling black. His chemlight was broken and shaken to signal his location. It began to move slowly inch by inch away from the jagged rocks before disappearing beneath the waves once again, the greenish glow still slightly visible in the depths of the ocean before coming back up to the surface. He was making good progress. I waved the next man forward and counted off the men as they jumped in to join the line of green glowing chemlights bobbing along the waves. One by one they jumped into the water without a second thought, following my orders without question and putting their utmost trust in me and my plan. The burden of leadership weighed heavy on my shoulders as I turned around to see not a single soul in sight.

All six men accounted for, I thought.

First in, last out.

I turned back towards the lake with my arms wrapped around the rucksack.

"Here we go!" I murmured confidently.

I stuck my left foot out, hopping into the darkness below.


	13. Chapter 12: Fueled by Blood

Update (9/24/16): There will be a two week pause for updating the stories for those curious, due to university mid-terms I'm devoting my attention to studying and taking the exams before resuming the publishing of the next two chapters. Hopefully by then, I would have one or two chapters finished up for posting. Until then, please enjoy and read and review!

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Chapter 12: Fueled by Blood

Bubbling.

My lungs burned for air.

The muted sound of a storm that was far above the surface and my rapid heartbeat pounded in my ears. I felt a strange calmness in the frosty and biting embrace of freezing water. Bobbing green glows of light still shimmered brightly in the distance. My limbs were working at half-speed, struggling against the aqueous medium of water. Hands gripped around a pair of swim fins clipped on the rucksack by a D-ring on the bottom. US Diver Rocket Fins were standard issue to any special operations branches in the Japanese military. Stiff rubber was pulled over my dry land combat boots. The large 'big foot' pocket accommodated the standard combat footwear with ease as I pulled the two sturdy rubber foot straps tight around my heels. Feet slowly kicked at the water below to help with the slow ascent towards the surface by the flotation device and naturally buoyant pack. The swim fins felt inflexible, straining my calves as I kicked but it was in disuse after our deployment to the special region. Dry rot could set into improperly maintained flippers despite the copious amounts of Vaseline my team and I had slathered onto the rubbery material.

At the whim of mother nature, I could feel my body being pulled away from the coast by the waves undulating around me. I was but a small bug in a sea of water. My eyes strained to keep constant contact with the glowing green line in front of me. Every now and then, the line would break up into small little dashes of green before become a solid dot in the horizon. Sound of howling winds, the impact of heavy rain against the surface of the water and the energy sapping coldness of the world above the waterline signaled that I had broken the surface. My mouth opened to suck in the frigid air into oxygen starved lungs. Everything was pitch black with the occasional spark of purple light and a soft but barely noticeable glow of orange far to my right. Lactic acid filled legs burned and groaned in protest as I continued to kick hard to propel myself through the water. Plucking a mask from the numerous amounts of equipment tied to my rucksack, I slipped the snorkeling mask over my eyes and nose. I could feel a sudden dip in the water, a trough in between waves. Arms pushed down on the pack and thighs tensed hard at the stiff flippers to push my body underwater.

It was a basic swimming technique to conserve both energy and maintain distance swam.

I waited, eyes wide open underneath the water and move both of my legs up and down to continue swimming.

Pressure squeezed at my lungs.

It was another world inside the sea. Even with my eyes wide open, it was still as dark as darkness can be. It was dangerous to be swimming in open water during the night. The fear of getting disoriented and swimming towards the bottom of the lake was very real. A pit formed in my stomach of doubt and panic but was quickly washed over by concentration and calmness. My left hand slowly moved towards my face. Softly glowing blue from the neobrite material floated in the darkness of water. It had been five minutes since we had entered the water and still I felt like we were going nowhere. Before I knew it, a coldness bit at the nape of my neck. My head snapped back to fresh raining air. I gasped for much needed oxygen, still following the distant green glows.

The process continued to repeat over and over and over.

I started to lose count of how many times I had ducked under the swells. My body protested for me to stop. The Navy SEAL's forty percent rule popped into my head, further pushing me towards my actual limits. For the forty percent rule, if your mind says that you are done, you're only forty percent done. I had much more in my reserve tank and focused with each leg kick to continue propelling myself through the water. Sheer willpower drove me further and further.

Minutes later, I found one by one the lights were veering off from our more or less straight path, straying far to the right. Shaking hands pulled down the night vision goggle to find grainy men dragging themselves out of the water and onto a flat shoreline. Heavy packs were being dragged through the small beach. Shapes were preparing themselves too far for my eyes to see. I had no idea how far the shoreline really was. Looking through the night vision google was like looking at the world with one eye. Everything was two-dimensioned instead of the usual three. The image was flat, if you reached your hand out it would feel like you could touch everything from the keep's walls to the water right in front of your face. We were trained to use the night vision goggles up to one hundred meters, any more than that and you'd be better off just sticking a night vision scope or a thermal scope to your weapon.

I continued to flounder around, drained of energy after what seemed like hours of constant swimming. In reality, it was a short ten minutes. My constantly working mind followed the man in front of me and swam right towards the shore. Feet that were previously kicking against water quickly encountered solid land. Flippers were planted firmly against the upward sloping ground. My Achilles' tendon was being stretched painfully beyond what I considered as flexible. I was never even that flexible to begin with. A jolt of pain surged from my left leg and up my spine from the sudden increase in weight. It was only made worse as each footfall sent a new burst of agony, one worse than the last. My body felt like it weighed almost double what it did after jumping into the water. Soaked clothing added to the already heavy weight as I waddled onto land. Rigid rubber met sand as I made the few final steps onto land to find three of the six forming a semi-circle with their rifles pointing outward in a defensive perimeter while the others were transitioning from sea to land. My knees were turned into jelly as I collapsed from exhaustion onto the sand.

Rotting boat carcasses were littered across the coastline having been in disuse and worn down by the elements. Skulls and bones were poking up from the sandy ground in the dim light, knights and warriors that previously inhabited the grounds years or centuries ago. Among the frequent battlegrounds, I kicked off my swim fins and coughed up freshwater from my mouth. The rucksack was quickly unclipped and pushed off into the ground. I tore the diving mask off with weakened limbs. Huffing from the arduous swim, I took a few seconds for a short reprieve before quickly sitting up. Numb hands quickly strapped back the items that were torn from the pack. Unzipping the bag, I pulled out a dry black fabric. The balaclava was pulled over my head after I took off my helmet and Comtacs. My ensemble was soon complete dressed out in soaking wet multicam combat shirt, trousers and similar patterned plate carrier. The balaclava was mostly for wind protection and warmth.

With a tug, the three-point sling loosened the rifle from around my back as I pulled the Mark 17 to bear.

I shrugged the rucksack back on the rear of my plate carrier and rushed to meet with the waiting six men.

"An hour and six minutes before the start of phase two Captain," grunted Ikeda, breathing hard, "we have to find that entrance within the next thirty minutes."

"Tall order," I chuckled still upbeat despite the pounding the turbulent lake just gave me.

"Captain," wheezed Sanada, "can we take a short break? I can barely catch my breath."

"Do you think I'm not out of breath either?" I rasped, turning my rifle slightly to see the green tape of subsonic rounds inside the SCAR-H's magazine well.

"We're all out of breath, Sanada," murmured Ishihara as he adjusted his grip on the HK416 and gulped, "why don't you check on the old man to make sure he isn't keeled over."

"I'm not dead yet, Aho (fool)," grunted back Kazuki, his Kansai dialect slipping out during a moment of respite from a few meters left of Ikeda and I.

After a few minutes of silent panting and catching of breaths I spoke, "make sure subsonic's loaded into your rifles and the cans are on. If we have to take care of anything on the way, I'd rather make no noise about it. Well…not like the people fighting around the keep are going to care."

A flood of acknowledgements came from the six other members.

"Alright then," I grunted, standing up, "let's double time it."

We stood up with Okuda taking point.

Loud splashes were soft in the torrential rain. Our boots splattered with each footfall, picking up a little more mud than before. Legs pumped up and down in an irregular rhythm. Deep breaths were taken while we negotiated wet and constantly rising terrain. It was a shallow uphill run. Our speed was faster than a jog but slower than a run – a forced march. It was an uncomfortable pace that neither tired you out within a few minutes or gave the same pleasant ease as a jog. The green chemlights were worn on the top of our helmets, making use of the slowly dimming tube as a means of visual identification. We soon settled into a rhythmic and brisk jog. The pain from my left leg continued to pound with each footfall. Heavy weight from the pack continued to push down on my body. The same annoying burn started to creep up my legs once again and my lungs were on fire.

The sounds of battle got louder as time slowly crawled by. Artillery shells no longer impacted the ground with earthshaking tremors yet the illumination rounds were casting their brilliant glows much closer towards the walls of the keep than I previously thought. The task force must be making their way up the midpoint of the keep's hill. At this point, the tanks would have turned around with one on each side of the road with their main gun aimed straight into the narrow valley. Stacked in pairs, four layers of support fire would protect the advancing infantry fighting vehicles, infantry and mounted cavalry as they continued their advance towards the gates and walls of the keep. The remaining four tanks from the attached tank company would support the offensive, using their coaxial and mounted M2HB heavy machine guns in addition to the IFV's thirty-five millimeter cannons. Once the outer gate had been reached, the tanks would use their MPAT-OR-T (Multipurpose Anti-Tank – Obstacle Reduction – Tank) rounds to blast through the reinforced gates. Then I would presume the Empire's additional forces would move in for close quarters combat with the support of the Japanese Self Defense Force. Battles within the castle would turn from a well-coordinated lightning strike into a meter by meter brawl between barbarian, fighters, rogues and assassins against trained infantry from the JSDF and the Imperial legionnaires.

Or so that's what I thought when Colonel Kengun had told me on the radio that the Empire's forces had joined them.

Maybe the Empire wanted to expand its foothold and reclaim the keep as a show of their newfound power after being allied with the Japanese.

Who knows, politics were for the scheming old men to deal with.

We came to a halt, the booming of battle even louder than before. My eyes glanced up squinting and blinking as rain fell into them. I pulled down the ballistic goggles to find a looming cliff side that stretched up high into the sky. Jagged rocks and outcroppings strangely protruded from the ground. The cliff face was adorned with smoothed rocks nearly impossible to climb up in deteriorated conditions. Smooth rocks turned slippery and the smaller outcroppings would threaten to throw us off balance with one misplaced boot. My gloved hands pressed against the wall. Pruned fingers pushed against the rock. It might as well be steel because driving a piton into the granite would take far longer than we had time for. My eyes glanced left and right as my men came to a stop behind me, panting. Ikeda had pulled down his night vision monocular goggle and was meticulously scanning the area for any entrance in. Okuda was doing the same except looking at the ground for any clues of a secret trail.

I waved for my men to fan out and search for an alternative route.

There had to be an old trail that led to the boat landing, there was no way they hiked all the way from the entrance of the keep down here. That would take far too long for any offloading or transporting of supplies.

"I'm going to get really mad if we have to climb this wall," grunted Kazuki, "I might not be that old but dying from falling is not how I want to go."

"There's got to be something here…" I murmured my eyes glanced towards Ige, "Ige?"

"Hrmm…?" grumbled back the larger man.

"What's that around your right arm?" I asked.

"Ho~" Sanada added with a cat-like smile, "a blue hair ribbon now is it?"

"It's a good luck charm from Kurokawa," Ige shrugged, "I tie it around my arm for good luck. Why?"

"Ige, Ige, Ige," tsked the Kazuki eldest of the group as he approached the SBU commando, "do you know nothing of courtship my young frogman?"

"I know she's into me Kazuki. Shove off," grunted back Ige, "or at least I think I do…I'm not sure."

"Guys, if you would please stop goofing off. There's something strange over here," Ishihara muttered apathetically.

"It's not like we forgot about Kuribayashi and you either 'Michi. Itai!" Sanada yelped in pain as Ishihara's heavy combat boot struck his childhood friend in the shin.

An exasperated sigh his lips, agitated eyes flickered towards us as he grumbled, "any of you bring that up again and I'll kill you."

I raised my hands up in defeat even though I had nothing to do with the small exchange.

As the team gathered close to where Ishihara was menacingly crouched, we turned our attention to the wall in front of him. It was a strange protrusion from the cliff face. Unlike the somewhat straight and vertical sides around it, the rocks seemed to stretch out a few inches than it should from the upright wall. A rush of coolness submerged my right foot. I glanced down to see my foot in not a puddle, but a small stream that flowed from behind the protrusion of what seemed to be large rocks. I pulled off my glove and dipped my fingers inside the running stream. The liquid smelled of water but there was also the slight scent of human excrement and something metallic. I flicked my fingers to rid my digits of the foul liquid and brought my gaze back to the wall. The rocks that seemed to form a wall had obvious holes between imperfect boulders. A soft whistling came from the cracks in the stone as warmer air blew out. Maybe someone had sealed the entrance and this was what the previous tenants of the keep used to transport sea faring cargo and supplies from.

"This is differently not normal," I murmured, eyes scanning the surrounding area, "it's not a cave in for sure otherwise there would be some clearance from the rocks above."

"There has to be an explanation," Ikeda grunted.

"Its magic," Sanada mindlessly blurted out.

"There's got to be a scientific explanation for this," Ikeda continued to muse.

"Come on Ikeda. There's been magic reported to be of use in this region. Okuda, hand me the C4 will you?" I said, getting up and wiping the mud from my knees.

"If I haven't seen it with my own eyes I won't believe it," Ikeda replied.

"Stubborn aren't you kid?" Kazuki chuckled, "look at the deepened drag marks that were made against _stone_ there's a reason why there are streams here and not puddles. The rocks were pushed in by magic to seal up the cavern entrance. Someone doesn't want us to go in."

"Or something to come out," Sanada said ominously as I the five of us turned to look at him, "what? It's the perfect cover for a horror movie."

I shook my head and grabbed four bricks of the plastic explosive. Okuda and I placed the bricks against the rocks, propping them up against the middle of the boulders. We didn't need to clear the entire formation of rocks, we just needed a way in. The blocks were remolded into small clay-like off-white slabs and placed on individual rocks. Blasting caps were inserted and wired to an electronic detonator. I waved my men backwards and well away from the presumed entrance. The blast would be loud but not louder to anyone inside the battle. Tank rifled guns continued to fire, the slow thumping of the IFV's thirty-five-millimeter cannon echoed through the air and the screams of warriors filled the thunderous skies – noise wouldn't be an issue. I raised my left hand, back turned away from the entrance. Three digits were held up and started folding back into a fist as I counted down seconds until the explosion. At zero, I squeezed the detonator to hear nothing happening.

Confused, I squeezed the switch once and then twice.

 _Boom! Crack!_

A loud explosion shook the ground.

"Batteries must almost be dead," I grunted despite checking the gear before we departed.

The sound of rocks crumbling and grinding against each other could still be heard. A cloud of dust shot out from the stones and into the surrounding area. I was glad to have the balaclava on. Dust was slightly easier to breathe through with the fabric acting like a poor man's respirator. I pocketed the electronic detonator. We waited for a few seconds for the rocks to completely stop moving and the dirt to disappear into the rain. Grinding from the rocks slowly came to a stop. A few moments of silence passed by as we stood up and quickly moved to the blown out tunnel entrance. The rocks that were previously blocking the barricaded tunnel was now partially open. Large boulders were smashed by the plastic explosives, some in blocks and others into small pitiful pebbles. The resulting explosion was loud enough with ear protection on and was sure to attract something.

And attract something it did.

 _Roar!_

My head snapped upwards and towards the sky towards a blur.

A loud throaty roar that rang loudly in my ear could only belong to one trained predator of the skies – a tamed dragon.

"Get in the tunnel!" I screamed before screaming unconsciously in English, " _get in the fucking tunnel_!"

I raised my rifle and fired at the blur.

 _Clack! Clack! Clack!_

The sound of the bolt action cycling rounds could only be heard. There were no signature cracks from the slow moving bullets moving just below the speed of sound. I could tell if my shots were accurate as it was simply suppressing fire. A tap on my shoulder told me that the last man was clambering into the protective embrace of the tunnel. My right index finger squeezed the trigger twice before I turned around and high jumped onto one of the boulders we hadn't blown into smithereens. Pain jolted through my legs as the boots impacted the rock. A cool washed over my body as adrenaline pumped through my veins. An orange glow washed behind me, heat prickling at the back of my neck. I jumped into the tunnel and rolled to cushion my fall. Turning around, I raised my rifle at my assailant to see a serpentine neck smash into the opening. Rocks kept the tamed dragon at bay. Its head poked through the opening we made with its mouth wide open in a ferocious roar. It writhed around, pushing its massive frame into the rocks in attempt to get in.

Like a cat trying to catch mice.

"Try this on for size," I grunted, sliding the attached grenade launcher forward and pushed in a silver tipped shell.

I leveled the SCAR at the dragon's head with my arm around the buttstock of the rifle. My middle finger pulled the heavy set trigger mounted just below the rifle's own trigger guard. A jolt kicked the rifle forcefully backwards. One single pop was heard from the grenade launching the heavy projectile from my weapon. The minimum arming distance was forty-five to ninety feet. We were well within that distance. What I didn't expect was the tamed dragon to pull back, hopping backwards to attempt another rush at the tunnel entrance. I watched the round sail gracefully through the air spinning the forty-five feet it needed to arm. Just as the dragon's two legs slammed into the ground with a thunderous splash, the grenade slammed into its frame. Yellow lit up the air for a split second, flashing against the hardened bronze scales of the small dragon. Its wings were pulverized from the force of the explosion. A small ball was launched from the rear of the shell. The airburst grenade had detonated a few feet from its target and tore the leather between its winged fingers. A pained cry erupted from the dragon as it buckled its rider off. The rider himself no longer had legs. His feet were shredded in the detonation and the skin in his thighs hung like pieces of bloodied squid tentacles. The rider slammed into the ground with an agonized scream, bleeding profusely from his lower body. With another splash, the dragon's lifeless head slammed into the ground. While the outer skin of the dragon was intact, the shockwave of the grenade had surely caused serve internal bleeding at least if not outright liquefy its heart.

Panting, I felt a patting on my shoulder.

"First dragon killed," grunted Okuda, "congratulations Anderson."

"It's a tamed small dragon Master Sergeant. Nowhere near large enough to the flame dragon that Itami killed," Sanada chimed in.

"Still a dragon," Ishihara shrugged.

"Let's keep moving. If there's one of those dragons, there's bound to be more," Ikeda suggested, the sound of his boots crunching on the ground behind me.

"See Lieutenant! Dragons! How can you not believe that there's magic!" Sanada yelled, his voice echoing through the tunnels.

"Because there can be dragons and _no_ magic in the same world. If the universe is large then there could be an incomprehensible combination of factors, Sergeant," Ikeda replied in his matter-of-fact tone of voice.

"I give up," huffed Sanada.

Okuda was on point once again but this time with Sanada next to him. The two were walking in a staggered formation on both sides of the cave. One meter of separation was between the two men in case of any medieval traps were still lingering in the old tunnel system. The deeper we traveled, the darker it became. I couldn't imagine what true darkness was until there was absolutely no light source inside the cave itself. My eyes could see just centimeters in front of me. The temperature rose slightly instead of getting colder. My hand pulled down the night vision monocular and switched it on to see nothing. The night vision goggles only worked when there was light to amplify, there was nothing to amplify in cave darkness. A series of bright green hues flashed on in the grainy darkness, flooding a small area with a thin beam. We switched on our infrared lights attached to the side of our Sentry XP helmets. The tunnel was at least wide and tall enough to fit a tank through its passages. Channels of water flowed from the sides of the tunnel with one large duct dug into the middle for some sort of liquid expulsion. The formerly jagged ground was worn down by generations of foot travel and wheeled carts. Smooth but shallow marks were left on the dirt crusted surface seemingly preserved since the passage was magically sealed.

My fingers pushed on a small switch mounted at the top front of the rifle's Picatinny rail. The AN/PEQ-16B MIPIM (Mini Integrated Pointer Illumination Module) shot out a thin greenish beam invisible to the human eye. The IR beam shot into the darkness in front of us. A small shimmer of light glimmered spilling slightly into the air around the beam itself, the NODs trying to amplify any light it could pick up in cave darkness. We could only see a few meters in front of us from the two operator's light sources shining onto the path in front of them, even then their IR lights only penetrated a half a meter or so into the shroud of black. Water droplets plinked in the distance. Echoes from the impact of the water was constant, assaulting our aural senses and blocking out other sounds except for our disconcertingly loud footfalls and breathing. Soaking wet fabric became suffocating and damp, the heat slowly rising as we made our way deeper inside the caves. Fresh oxygen became stifled and harder to breathe. The air itself became thick and soupy, almost stale but it was still refreshing to inhale.

Minutes later, we came to a complete stop.

"Now how are we supposed to know which way we're supposed to go?" Sanada growled in frustration, his HK416C sweeping right to left.

"Easy," Okuda grunted, "follow the tunnel up."

"Captain?" Ikeda asked, deferring judgement to the commanding officer – me.

Spread out in front of us were four passageways that split into all sorts of varying directions and sizes. Two on the left curved into a hairpin left, the other going downwards. Their size was far too small for a normal human carrying any heavy load to go through. They were just big enough for a midget to go through…or dwarves and goblins. The openings weren't smooth like the walls we can encountered nor were there channels of water. Both passages seemed to be newly constructed within the past few years. Openings on the right were both ducted with small canals of moving stream. One was just human excrement and it stank up the entire cave air much to the frustration of Sanada. The rightmost had ducts flowing both of water and a reddish mixture that was vicious and cool to the touch unlike the warm, stifling air. Even though the opening was slightly smaller, made for a couple men to enter, the path was recently traveled with what seemed to be like four long digits with claws all pointing to a reptilian creature. A line marked in the barely distinguishable dirt of a heavy tail.

I had made up my mind.

"Sanada, take point. Okuda you're number two. Close up the formation into a line with groups of three to four and a one-meter separation. IR markers on," I ordered and reached towards the rear of my helmet.

"Ryokai," the members whispered quietly, our voices carrying far in the caves.

Small barely noticeable IR lights flickered on at the rear of our helmets. Sanada and Okuda fell into formation with me joining them in the mix. Kazuki, Ikeda, Ishihara and Ige formed a second team just a few feet behind us. I placed my hand on Okuda's right shoulder and leveled my rifle next to his right arm. The rifle was heavy but it wasn't like I hadn't trained my body to carry my own rifle in one hand. We moved in, walking cautiously into the rightmost passage with purpose. The reticule bobbed up and down on as we moved through the tunnels. It was all the same faceless and featureless walls with nothing to indicate that we were moving in the right direction except for the upwards slope. It was easy to lose track of time here. I constantly checked and consulted my analog watch to make sure that we were still on time.

Forty-five minutes until phase two.

We had plenty of time.

I took a step forward and found that Sanada had paused. He was frozen in his place. Okuda pushed the younger man forward and the same thing happened to him. Both of them were petrified. I couldn't understand why until my body had processed what I was actually feeling. My eyes caught a slight whitish-green cloud escaping from both Sanada's and Okuda's mouth. Skin on my right hand had turned from warmth into freezing cold. A mist of heat escaped from the gloved hand as Sanada regained his thoughts and continued to move forward despite the unnatural drop in temperature. Hairs on my neck stood from the quick pang of supernatural fear. This was stuff only shown in movies, mangas and television back in Japan and here we were in a new world where magic existed.

Nothing is true, everything is permitted.

As I passed the invisible barrier, my clothes instantly chilled. Heat was sucked from my body and energy sapped. The walls on either side of us folded away and all there was left in the darkness was the crunching ground under our boots. In the eerie green of our night vision monocular googles was nothing but the soupy black we stood in. My heartrate started to sky rocket and an inkling of panic set in before washing away. This was nothing like we had ever encountered back on Earth. It was ripped straight out of a horror movie or book. A sound tickled my ears. It sent chills running down both my own spine and Okuda's as watched his head snap to the sound. Like an inhuman groan, the voice was raspy like fingernails on chalk board. I fought hard against my instinct to run or fight. Lips became chapped and the blood drained from my already cold skin. My throat became constricted and breathing became hard. The thoughts in my head however were strong enough to break me out of petrification as I tapped Okuda's shoulder for him to continue moving on. The Master Sergeant shook his head to clear himself of the shock. With a strong shove, Sanada was forced to move forward. I could see the beam of Sanada's rifle shaking in his hands either from cold or fear I did not know. The voice continued to moan as we got closer and closer. Moans slowly turned into a language we didn't know. It was a constant murmur, almost like a chant.

Out of the darkness, a rectangular stone slab rose from the ground.

The flat slab had a human-like shape chained tightly to it.

We approached the slim frame with our rifles trained on the unmoving shape. Just a meter away from the block, I pulled away from the formation and slowly circled right while Okuda did the same circling right. My rifle was still trained on the head of the form with the laser burned at its temple. Grainy green dots from the night vision goggles made it near impossible for me to identify what it was even with assisted illumination from the helmet light. I glanced up at my men. The other four had made their way just behind Sanada and were now in a semi-circle around the stone slab. I waved to get my men's attention before jabbing my left thumb at myself and pointing towards the limp body, telling them that I'd check it out. A solid nod came from one of the men as I moved forward. Step by step, I cautiously placed one foot in front of the other. My head scanned slowly left and right to make sure I wasn't going to step into anything until I came to a stop just centimeters before the slab. Shimmering from the floors suggested that there were small conduits all around the floor I hadn't noticed before, snaking this way and that way all around the room. I slowly dipped my finger into the small channel and felt the digit instantly warm. There was a whiff of iron as the liquid viscously ran down my gloves and onto my exposed forearm.

My attention turned back to the block.

I gripped my rifle's grenade launcher. Small groves made for the fingers in place of the standard handguard once attached squealed from the tight grip between fabric and polymer. I came to a stop right behind the unmoving body and glanced down. Warm breaths fell on my forearms. A slow and weak exhale of air escaping in the form of white mist. The helmet light fell upon what seemed to be a female elf. Her breaths stopped for a short moment. Whitish skin glistened in the night vision goggles as my eyes fell upon her. Glowing white eyes snapped open, her head jerking towards me as I froze. I couldn't tell if she could see me or was actually just looking at the source of the sound. The murmuring had stopped and an eerie silence filled the giant room. My body was frozen solid as I continued to stare at the giant white reflective eyes of the elf. For a moment I felt like time had stopped and I had been frozen solid by the air. But the elf continued to stare at me before her eyes exhaustedly closed and the murmurings began. My head scanned upwards, seeing the metal cuffs squeezing the skin of her neck, her wrists, her waist and her ankles, pinning them to the slab or more accurately altar. There were cuts all along her body as shining liquid oozed from inside them flowing like water into a depression made for any humanoid. The liquid disappeared into small holes inside the altar which led else where I couldn't even begin to tell. Her body was clean, yet seemed deprived of energy and there was a single large hole in the center for human excrement.

A grinding against the floor made me quickly move, my rifle pointing at the source of the sound.

"Argh!" a piercing scream erupted from the elf as the draining liquid slowly floated into the air and zoomed into the darkness.

"What was that?!" I yelled, "go IR high beam!"

Beams of thin greenish light no longer shot into the darkness. A flash of power lights erupted from the AN/PEQ-16Bs mounted on our rifles. Two hooded figures were standing behind me with the occasional serpentine tongue lashing out from their elongated snouts. My thumb flicked the fire selector from S to A. Screaming continued to pierce my eardrums. It made it hard to concentrate as the red reticule of the EoTech cut into my eye line, aiming straight at the belly of one of the robed figures. A thick cloud of shimmering liquid coalesced and disappeared into the two robed figures which had seemly absorbed into their clothes and skin. Screaming stopped. A fleshy thud slammed into stone behind me. Their eyes glowed from underneath the fabric hood. One slow hand slowly outstretched to reveal thin limbs with claw-like appendages pointing at me. It's not like they actually needed claws from what they were about to do. Time slowed as I ducked, rolling left. Bright glowing rays shot out from one of their fingers that chilled the air around it. Like the middle of a raging blizzard, I could feel the damp clothes instantly freeze and crackling from turning into ice, shattering from my sudden motion.

A loud and angry yell exploded from behind me.

"Kisama…kutabare! (informal You, go to hell/drop dead!)" the voice belonged to an enraged Okuda.

I didn't hesitate after stabilizing myself into a crouch.

 _Clack! Clack!_

My finger squeezed the trigger twice. Sparks erupted from the end of the suppressed barrel, the bolt of the Mark 17 noisily ejecting rounds from the chamber. Bullets zipped like invisible arrows in the darkness. Each of the heavy steel core rounds slammed into the robed figures and knocked them backwards. Their legs lifted off the ground just to impact them moments later with a loud screeching of their nails digging into stone. They didn't even hesitate, it only made them act faster. A snarl came from beside me. Ige was angry, frustrated that they were so resilient. Clacking from the combined fire filled the rooms with loud echoing bangs from the rapid slamming of our bolts. I watched as I pinned the trigger to the rear of the rifle. Sparks continued to erupt from the end of the barrel. Bullets peppered the still standing robed figures. Another scream erupted from behind me as a darkened cloud drew past us into their robed bodies. I dumped the subsonic ammunition and grabbed the right most polymer container, slamming it into my rifle. Dull red glowed from the heated barrel. Slapping the bolt release, I pulled the trigger thrice going for a double tap.

 _Crack! Crack!_

A deafening crack blasted in the giant room, echoing like an acoustic chamber. The API (Armor Piercing Incendiary) punched through their robes like butter, a small speck of red light catching fire despite the cold temperature of the room. My aim moved upward, using the natural recoil of the rifle to help. Another squeeze of the trigger slammed the buttstock into my shoulder. I watched the head of the robed figure snap back, falling onto the ground with a dull thump. A hiss escaped from its partner. Its reptilian hands raised as the temperature dropped into a cold snap. Shimmering crystals formed in the air similar to daggers. With a swing of his clawed hand, he sent the daggers spinning towards me.

I leapt from my crouch, firing on the move as I tried hard to dodge the spinning blades. Whizzing in the air brushed past my body before stopping completely. There was a flash of light for a brief moment. A loud bang had shaken the entire ground and cavern. Rocks, pebbles and loose pieces of stone lightly rained down from above me. The sound of shattering glass rang just behind. I came to a sliding stop, sliding around to find out what was happening.

"Frag…out?" Sanada murmured as a loud smack was heard in the darkness, "ita!"

"You're supposed to say it before you throw it Koichi…ii kagen ni shiro (stop messing around)," grunted Ishihara.

"Do you believe in magic now, Ikeda?" murmured Kazuki as I approached the dead bodies, turning on the flashlight on the AN/PEQ-16B.

"Yes," Ikeda grumbled back with defeat.

I went to the last hooded figure to go down and kicked off his hood. There was still a rise and fall on his chest despite being blasted by a thrown fragmentation grenade. These things were tough. Scaled skin, slit like eyes and the flickering of a forked tongue all pointed to a serpent like race. Where they had pulled that magic from I couldn't know. My lips pressed into a thin line, deep in thought as Okuda walked over to the injured mage. He had conjured ice from thin air and drawn blood from the sacrificial altar. A ray of frost had fired out from his fingertips. These mages were extremely dangerous. They were unlike any of the mages reported in special region. Unlike the amateur magic the special region mages casted, these reptiles pulled the very blood from a living creature as fuel for their magic.

"Ptui!" spat Okuda on the nearly dead mage, "that's what you get for trying to freeze me to death."

"You're quite crass for a father you know," I commented as Okuda shrugged.

"My kids just have to know that I fought as one of the best not – well, you know, that I curse like a sailor when in battle," laughed Okuda.

"Maybe we can negotiate something from it or get some information," Kazuki suggested.

A scream from the elf broke peace once again, the serpentine mage opening its mouth in a hiss.

Okuda raised his rifle without a moment of hesitation.

 _Clack! Clack!_

Two smoking holes rose from the chest and head of the now dead mage.

"Or not…" murmured the Inspector.

"Best to let the bullets do the interrogating with these things," grunted Ikeda as a splash was heard.

I turned around.

Ige was covered in slick red liquid from head to toe. Being the unfortunate soldier to stand between the elf and the mage, the transferring blood was dropped all over him. The temperature had slowly increased after the deaths of the two mages. Our breaths were no longer a wispy white as I pulled out the red taped magazine from my rifle to replace it with subsonic ammunition. I pushed the night vision goggles up its locked position over my right eye to see an intricate series of conduits and channels crisscrossing the ground in a strange pattern. There were two outer rings as if in a ritualistic sigil. The blood running along the walls flowed upwards against the pull of gravity. It seemed that the two mages were the ones responsible for keeping the elf alive and well as well as taking care of her hygiene to make sure their sacrifice and source of power would remain alive for the longest amount of time.

How long she was here I wouldn't know until much later on.

"Guys," Ige grunted, shaking his head, "I like to swim, but not in blood!"

A short laugh erupted from all of us excluding Ikeda and Ishihara who didn't find the situation to be even close to funny.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I walked over towards the elf. I gestured for Ikeda and Sanada to free her. Bolt cutters were pulled from Sanada's pack, the young soldier being the unofficial breacher of the team. As Sanada carefully placed the bolt cutters on the thick wire, Ikeda pulled on his medical gloves and started examining the female elf. Her breaths were shallow and slow. Glistening white skin that seemed pasty from lack of sun light. I wondered how long she had been kept here. Exhausted and weakened eyes fluttered in an attempt to keep open, a grunt escaping from her lungs while her lips quivered. Her head bobbed up and down in attempt to struggle yet she was far too weak. Ikeda placed his rucksack on the ground to retrieve an IV drip. A hypodermic needle was inserted into her visible veins on her elbow to supply her with much needed nutrients after being drained of blood. Ikeda's lips pressed into a thin line as the elf's head slumped into the stone altar. My concern was not with saving the elf but meeting the mission time table but if we could save both the elf as well, it would sit easier with the guilty conscience that would pop up after we were on official leave.

"She needs a blood transfusion Captain," Ikeda grumbled as he slipped a blood bag from his pack, "permission to initiate the transfusion?"

I nodded, "how long is this going to take?"

"I…don't know Captain. If the blood takes right away then minutes, if not I'll have to monitor her health," there was a pause from the 2IC and then a sigh, "I'll have to stay here and take care of her don't I?"

"You know me Lieutenant," I said with a small smile, "Kazuki, use your creepy and perverted old man charms on her and get her story will you?"

"I'm _still_ ten years older than you Ryu-chan. It's not like I got even older when I'm here," Kazuki shot back as he rubbed his whiting goatee, "but, I'll do as you ask. You can trust this beautiful ojousan (young lady) to me."

"Might I remind you that this young lady might be three hundred years old?" I replied with a grin.

"Bah! Age is but a number young man," Kazuki scoffed.

"Stay safe you two," Okuda nodded.

"Don't die on me now," Kazuki yelled after us as we started walking away, "if you die before me I'll piss on your graves after all that crap you gave me for being old!"

"You know for someone who usually spills out a lot wisdom he acts like an actually middle aged man half of the time," Sanada chuckled, "maybe coming to the special region is helping him through whatever he's going through."

"It's just the five of us now…" grumbled Ige, still covered in blood.

We walked around the room finding numerous exits but only one led upwards. The other rooms were filled with jars, preserved food, clothing and ancient tombs. Twenty-five minutes were left on the clock as we swiftly ascended. It was a snaking corridor that coiled around in a narrow spiral stairway through meters of rock. At the top of the stairs stood a large wooden door that was left wide open. Strong cooling winds blew into the now warm 'sacrificial chamber' and the staircase leading to it. I pulled down the monocular night vision goggle, switched the helmet light back onto low IR and reactivated the laser pointer on the rifle's PEQ-16. Sounds of muffled battle cries, yells and screams were muffled through the walls. The occasional loud boom and bang was muted through layers of thick stone walls. Winds howled in through windows and the sound of pitter-pattering rain could be heard clear against the stone floor. We stacked up three men on one side and two men on the other. Okuda and Sanada were once again at the front followed by Ishihara and I with Ige performing rear security. I lifted up rifle, resting it against my right bicep with the muzzle pointed up at the ceiling. There was a cleansing breath as I tapped Okuda on the shoulder.

The older man rushed forwards.

His SCAR snapped up as cautious feet stormed through the open door. His laser beam swept quickly through the open space before coming to a swift crouch right on the other side of the door. My weapon dropped into my hands, scanning the large area we were in and moving towards the right of the room. Soft footfalls were heard as Sanada and Ishihara entered. It seemed like we exited into a sizeable library filled with toppled over bookcases and a high ceiling. Rain slipped through broken glass windows. Dim candles burned at the opposite end of the room. Splintered furniture was laid all over the ground with books scattered in what seemed to be like a ransacked hall. My eyes scanned the lifeless space for any hostiles.

There was none – or so I thought.

Ige came striding into the library, stepping over books and towards a still standing book case that seemed rotten from years of exposure to the elements. His G36K small in his large hands and body. The compact weapon scanned upwards and sideways to find nothing. It was after Ige passed a second support beam did something catch my eye. A glint of light that reflected the candle light with a subtle shine of green. One shadow pushed off its powerful legs upon its unsuspecting prey. My mouth opened to yell but I knew it was already too late. Arms didn't move fast enough as I brought the Mark 17 to battery.

"Ige!" I yelled.

 _Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack!_

A volley of gunfire exploded inside the library.


	14. Chapter 13: Battering Ram

Author's Note: Sorry for the late chapter guys, mid-terms ended for me on Friday and I needed a break on Saturday even though the story was mostly completed I still had things to add to it. For the next few days I'll be free so two chapters might be posted this weekend instead of one. Keep your eyes peeled. As always, thanks for the reviews, I had to fix some stuff pointed out for SOCOM 1-1 due to a ridiculously dumb brain fart I had while writing the Chapter 1 during the time between midnight and early dawn. But other than that, please continue enjoying the latest chapter in So We Stand!

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Chapter 13: Battering Ram

"Argh!" grunted Ige, his lips quivering in an attempt to control his pain.

"Bite on this," grunted Ishihara as he offered a piece of rope from his own rappel line.

Ige had brushed closely with death. The shape turned out to be a female from one of the oppressed cat-people groups protecting the inner walls. Their daggers were dipped in concentrated formic acid that once brushed against skin became high corrosive. His skin was slowly dissolving and the reddened muscle was starting to show through. Although slow, numerous cuts would distract the fighter long enough for any assassin to dispatch them with ease. Unlike the warriors of this world, we had something that the swordsmen don't – firearms.

I pulled out my combat knife as Ige bit down hard onto the thick rope. Glinting metal sliced into his flesh, removing the slow dissolving acid before I dumped water from a spare canteen onto the fresh wound. A muffled agonized cry escaped from Ige's lips as his body shuddered from intense pain. Reddened skin poured blood from his right bicep where the cut had been. Tourniquets were applied to his shoulder to slow blood flow. I pulled out a large piece of gauze and poured the whitish powder of a clotting agent onto his wound for a stop-gap treatment until I could find a medic to take over. Despite being one of the few special forces with backing from the Japanese Ground Defense Force, we were still receiving old equipment. Requisitioned AN/PSQ-20 Enhanced Night Vision Goggles had still not arrived from BAE Systems. The night vision enhanced thermal goggles were a leap forward in night optics compared to the current AN/PVS-14s we used that were manufactured in the 2000s.

We had just found out the hard way how well the locals were at camouflage.

It was not just us who had mastered the art of hunting men.

"Do you need to go see a medic Ige?" I asked the larger man as he pulled the climbing rope out of his mouth.

"No," growled the SBU frogman, "now I'm angry. Let's get this over with."

"She dead?" Sanada asked, his face in a grimace.

"No. From the amount of lead we pumped into her, I'm guessing she won't live to see the sunrise even with medical aid. She's got a few minutes' tops," grumbled Okuda as he glanced towards the three of us, "Ige, you want to put her out of her misery?"

"I'm too angry at her to kill her. It'll be out of vengeance instead of mercy. You do it," grunted Ige.

Just as Okuda raised his SCAR-H, Sanada held out his hand and pushed down at Okuda's rifle.

"I've got his Master Sergeant. You've already done too much," Sanada's face was a visage of steel and seriousness, his playful mood gone with the sudden attempt on Ige's life, "if you have gods pray to them now or if you have any last words utter them."

Sanada's rifle was trained on the catgirl's forehead.

Rasping and irregular breaths of air escaped from the assassin. Her mouth opened, lips quivered. Words fell out in strange pacing from the wounds she suffered as her mind no longer had control of her body, "p-p-please…save my sibling-g-g-gs. Mimi and Moon. White haired with mismatched pupils. B-b-blue and green and red and yell-yellow. They're here – not far from the gate to the i-i-inner court…yard." There was a pause of rasping air, "I don't want to…die."

Blood seeped from small coin sized holes all over her body. She was in dreadful shape. One of her legs bent halfway up from her calf, a bullet breaking and pulverizing bone. There was nothing there and it looked more like a slab of meat than a limb. Her left hand had their digits all shattered. Fingers littered the floor behind the assassin. A gurgling and bubble came from both her chest and throat. One or both of her lungs must have been punctured for her to be breathing this way. Blood filled eyes blinked weakly from blood loss, her chest twitching from being unable to breath into collapsed lungs.

It was either suffocating on her on blood or a swift bullet to the head.

 _Clack! Splat!_

Cold eyes flickered over to me.

Sanada's eyes became empty, hollow. Killing tore a piece off a small piece of our soul. It didn't matter if the 1AB Sergeant could kill or not, I was worried about what would come afterwards. The years after he would exit the army. The guilt, the remorse, the memories. Sanada knelt down and ran his hands down the girl's face. She couldn't have been older than twenty-five. The way she asked for help could only mean that she was pushed into the fighting and possibly trained by her masters to become an assassin otherwise her family would starve or be worked to death. The five of us stood up. My left leg started to pulse gently, the pain a minor annoyance before fading away.

An epiphany dawned on me as we stacked up against the library door.

So this was how my father felt operating in Afghanistan and Iraq. Only now had I realized that my own father was me after years of working in the special operations. Only a few years before retiring he had told me of the numbness in some of his fingers and arms. His back hurt each time he got out of bed and there was onset of arthritis in his hip, back and knees. It was the price of forty solid years in service of his country. Forty years of running around the hot, the humid and the cold fighting every moment he was still breathing. Each year he came back to visit his family he never once grumbled about how hard his job was and instead there was a smile of happiness. It was like looking at a splitting image of my older self.

I shook my head, being homesick would have to come after the mission.

"Okami to all HOGs (Hunter of Gunmen). Cleared to fire on individual targets designated in briefing. Take out the head of the snake," I heard Sawada's voice on comms.

"Tanuki, wilco."

"Kistune copies," squawked the replies.

"Looks like Phase Two is beginning," Okuda grumbled, "we wasted fifteen minutes playing around with that assassin as well as running up the flight of stairs. Feels like a leg work out to be honest."

"Well, we have five minutes to make it a reality. And we aren't the Japanese Special Forces Group for no reason," I grunted and waved the team forward, "lets double time it!"

The time to hide in the shadows came to an end. We had to step out and start executing Direct Action procedures. Loud cracks zipped through the air outside. Screams were heard from around us. The snipers had begun their mission to dissolve the leadership we had picked out through the days of constant surveillance. Well, whatever was left of it anyway. Gunfire was ever close. Bullets peppered the stone structures like pebbles striking brick walls. The JSDF and their Imperial counterparts must have pushed through the first wall. As we sprinted through the empty corridors and rooms towards the exit. Between the cracked glass windows and steel fenced in windows, I could see fighting on the tops of the inner walls. Thick walls protected the inner courtyard. It was enough for rows of five to six men to fight shoulder to shoulder. Shapes lit by dim torchlight fought on the walls. Some had tall shields with standard long swords, others had long polearms or spears while a few had what I made out to be the newer and modernized Howa Type 89 complete with attachments. Cracks of gunfire were constant like Chinese firecrackers as we made our ways through similar halls.

I came to a skidding stop.

In front of me was an intimidating figure.

At least two heads taller than me clanked a man in heavy plate armor. Crimson paint and dripping blood covered the man's scaled armor. Large overlapping scale plates covered the torso, thighs and shoulders while smaller scales made up the chainmail. Small plates covered the rest of his body and gauntlet with an intimidating horned helmet. A sharp prism like helmet sat on his head with horns curling out from the metal in front like horns of a bull. In his hands was a large great sword that was at good length taller than my body. My men and I froze. Not in fear but out of shock that such a man could wield that size of a blade. The metal was dark with specks of light shining from the inside of the blade. His armor shifted with hollow clattering, his right arm holding the blade towards us. A gravelly voice escaped from the inside of the helmet with an echo.

"Pray to your gods. These halls will be your grave, outsider!" bellowed the large armored figure.

"Oh no," I chuckled reloading my weapon, "that's where you are gravely mistaken."

As a war cry erupted from the blood guard's mouth, I snapped up my rifle and pressed on the small tanned box. One single powerful light shot out from the PEQ-16B. I could see him recoil from the sudden burst of light. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and started sprinting to the right. I could hear my men spreading out in all directions to circle the lone swordsmen. We would only be able to gain a few seconds of breathing room give or take before the guard's vision returned to normal but at a reduced capacity. I had switched my helmet light from IR high to identification mode. A soft glow in infrared would signal where each of my men was in an attempt to avoid friendly fire.

The room was a giant entrance hall with multiple pillars that went up two to three floors to support the high ceiling. The once purplish red carpet that stretched from the main hall and main stairs were burnt to tatters on the stone ground. Bronze and brass candle holders were knocked down to the ground with black stains on the walls and floors. Tapestry and paintings were in the same condition. Some were vandalized with the Empress's face torn out or painted over by blood. Bodies from months earlier were still rotting on the floor exuding a pungent smell in the air. Most of the flesh had decayed and the once reddened muscle had become a very moldy green and black. Maggots were still swarming the bodies with eggs already hatched to form more flies. The clothing had changed slightly since Empress Pina had come into power with the once purple cape and black plume replaced with a white cape and red plumes to reflect the Empire's new flag of a white background with a red dragon.

I grunt escaped my mouth as I struggled to pull out a wedge shape about three inches in size. It weighed just under half a kilogram. The ring was pulled and the arming strap ripped off that was tied down on the top of the gadget. Peeking around the corner, the giant armored frame had his hand still up to his face as cracks bullets slammed into his hard plated suit. Metal sparked against tough layers of dragon plate, knocking the large man back and forwards with significant force. My men had to keep him occupied for just a few moments longer before the gadget known as the M86 Pursuit Deterrent Munition would arm. Yellow sparks knocked the swordsman's helmet off his head. The reinforced and moderately heavy metal was knocked clear from his head, falling down onto the stone floor with a loud clattering. Behind it was a disfigured man with burn scars across all of his left face and veins pulsing with red gently glowing in the darkness of the room. There was only one thing that could do such a thing, enhancing the already brutish swordsman to inhuman levels of strength and toughness – blood magic.

Pockmarked and contorted flesh snapped at the man that shot his helmet off. Ishihara was to his right and guilty of firing such a well-aimed shot. Just as the warrior turned to face him, I lobbed the wedge shaped grenade with an underhand throw.

"Find cover and hit the deck!" I screamed, my voice echoing loudly in the chamber.

My back pressed hard into the stone pillar.

 _Tink!_

The sound of metal impacting the stone floor, skipping off the ground. A loud bang and the zipping of uncoiling wires shot through the halls. The M86's eight tripwires were shot clear from its housing and into the area around it. Grunting escaped from the swordsman as metal squished and punched through the chainmail underneath, finding its way from underneath the overlapping scales. I squeezed my eyes shut knowing what was about to happen next. The warrior would tug at the tripwire and activate the PDM. A powerful bang from liquid propellants underneath the mine would propel the wedge shape into the air. One loud boom shook the entrance hall. Crumbling bits of stone from pillars clattered onto the ground, metal struck stone creating bright sparks from the six hundred or so fragments generated by the blast. Howling from the warrior and a loud thump brought me out from the stone pillar.

Blood dripped like a waterfall from numerous cuts on his disfigured face. The large armored frame stumbled backwards but still stood tall.

This was becoming increasingly frustrating.

This man was still standing despite all the punishment.

"Aim for this head. Aim for this head!" I screamed, squeezing the trigger.

Bullets started striking above his torso. A few struck his face and punched through the fleshy red glowing veins before holding his hand up to protect his exposed head while roaring from pain. The great sword he wielded was used to block the rear of his head while his other hand covered the upper half of his face.

This wasn't going to work.

We were going to have to get creative.

"Load armor-piercing, aim for his joints! Watch for friendly fire!" I screamed, moving my weapon to the side of my vest.

"Check fire! Check fire! If you're going to do something Captain, do it fast!" Okuda yelled.

"Ishihara, 9-bang him!" I screamed and pulled out my combat knife from the side of my belt, "I'll go in for a back attack!"

"Ryokai!" he yelled back, the distinct slick of the pin loud in my ears.

The sound of gunfire no longer being heard in my ears.

"Flashbang out! Close them eyes!" Ishihara warned.

 _Bang! Riiiinnggg!_

A white flash lit up the hallway briefly as I darted out from behind the pillar. My left hand scrambling against the stone floor for traction. Mud slicked boots slipped against the polished floors, my eyes locked with the kneeling giant. The knife was held in a reversed grip with the tanto tip pointed towards the ground. Legs pumped hard to get my body and the attached equipment into a sprint. Grunting escaped from my throat as my left leg exploded from strain, my limbs never having rest for long. Energy drained from my arms and legs, but I kept pushing. I felt like my legs were going to give out and leapt a few steps from the armored frame. My body soared just a couple feet from the ground, exhausted legs only doing so much as my body slammed into the back of the swordsman. The great sword dropped to the ground with a loud clatter. Gigantic hands reached backwards to try and pull me off but the armor restricted his movements. The glinting tanto ka-bar came swiftly down right below his throat, slicing easily just behind the collarbone. Twitching hands stopped their movement. I felt the blade jamming into the hard bone of the warrior's spine. The sound of blade cutting against flesh grinded loudly in my ears as I pulled the blade upwards. Blood exploded out like a fountain from the man's neck. I pulled the blade across and to my right just below the man's jaw before ripping it clear of his neck.

"Okuda! Toss me an incendiary grenade!" I yelled, glancing down to see the pulsing red glowing brighter, "quickly!"

"Just…hold on," grunted Okuda.

My eyes glanced down with alarm. Glowing red tendrils extended from the mutilated flesh as if they were from an alien movie reaching across to stitch the skin back together. It wasn't fast yet it was alarming enough that the enemy had regenerating abilities. Okuda, tossed the cylindrical grenade at with lightning fast speed. His arm pitching the cylinder like a fastball towards me. With my legs still squeezed tightly against the armored frame, I reached up with my left hand and snatched the grenade out of the air, arm stinging from the speed of the throw. A jolt ran through my body. The warrior was moving once again, the cut I had made rapidly healing itself. I flicked the pin off with the tip of my knife and jammed the cylinder down his throat. A quick stab at his temple immobilized the hulking warrior once again before I hopped off his back. The blood guard turned around, his hands clawing at the grenade sliding down towards his chest. He was too slow as his regeneration worked against him and sealed up his gaping wound.

"You…!" a word escaped his mouth.

 _Hiss…_

Red glowing from underneath his armor. The burning red slowly rose up to his neck and then his face. Veins that were glowing red with power were now bright red with heat, blood and organs boiling inside. A glowing orb of red pulsed from his open mouth. Skin started to burn from the unnatural creamy whiteness to a singed and crispy black. Bubbles formed on the skin, bursting a darkened red from heat as the swordsman lost his strength from standing and collapsed to his knees. Metal glowed red hot dripping like burning water onto the stone ground. At 4,000 degrees F, it was hot enough to cut through the dragon plate and scales used in the construction of the armor. The burnt flesh, blood and armor poured down into a burning collection of liquid with parts of the warrior's gear scattered all around.

"There is no way he was coming back from that," grunted Ige.

The grenade was still burning at the center of the pile, a core of molten metal.

"Ah man," Sanada growled, his usual whining meant he was returning back to his annoying old self, "I think I sprained my wrist from reloading at a natural angle. You know that was the first time I'd actually shot someone from _inside_ a table."

"Pffft, get over yourself Koichi," Ishihara scoffed.

"Okami, where are you guys?" I voice snapped us out of our brief break, "Hagane (Steel) 1 is at the inner gate and it still isn't open! Enemy reinforcements are approaching the valley entrance as we speak!"

Hagane 1 was the first armor platoon made up of one Type 10 Hitomaru Main Battle Tank and three Type 74 Main Battle Tanks. They were also contained the commanding officer of a slight modified tank company made up of purely main battle tanks. Logistical support was provided by the artillery platoon located far to the rear of the battle and hidden behind hills.

A glance at my watch made me realize that we had two minutes' left.

They were early.

"Okami, Raiden, you're two minutes early!" I yelled, beginning my long sprint out from the castle's keep, "we'll get your gate open in time!"

"Two minutes is a lot of time Okami! Make it happen!" the response came.

"Don't worry we'll get it open in…" my voice trailed off, eyes scanning upwards at an impossible figure.

Between the lightning and my night vision goggles I could see an imposing figure towering above us. One leg was as large or even larger than a tree truck and rippled with muscle. A large built body that was as large as a one story building in Japan and a metal helmet covering its head stood a creature that was easily two stories high. Its lower body had crudely stitched leather pants while a large fur coat skinned from an impossibly large animal draped over its large back. Water had turned the once rough fur of the cape into a slick brown coated with mud. A large number of scars adorned its arms like giant snakes coiled all around its biceps and marked its tough skin. Across its fur cape was a large hammer that could easily smash into any one of our tanks and vehicles, wrecking it with one strike. That is if it could even get close enough and take a swing at the machines. Its impressive size shocked me into speechlessness.

It was an ogre.

Nothing had prepared me for anything of this.

"Okami! What's wrong?" yelled back the radio operator.

"Nothing!" I said calmly, drawing on my experience as a fighter pilot to keep cool, "we'll get it open, just worry about minimizing civilian casualties!"

We still held the advantage.

The JSDF were swarming the walls with their Imperial counterparts, holding the high ground and distracting anyone that might be paying attention to the five distinctly dressed special operations commandos. All of the inner walls were in disarray. Fighters were quickly killed off while dragon riders that took to the air were quickly shot down by the four Type 87 Self-propelled Anti-Aircraft Guns like flies. Ogres that were still alive defending the inner courtyard from outside were dispatched by the combined might of both the Type 10 MBTs, Type 74 MBTs and Type 89 IFVs. Screaming 120mm and 105mm MPAT rounds tore chunks of gore into the air with a loud whump bang. Screeching from the F-2Bs were no longer crackling the air as they had peeled off to refuel before returning back to Alnus hill to rearm for air to air combat patrols to protect the four KC-76 and KC-767 air refueling aircraft deployed to Alnus Hill. Half of the tankers were deployed to the new region to deliver extended time on station for the versatile multirole aircraft provide the much needed CAS support for ground teams deployed beyond the Japanese Self Defense Force's controlled areas.

The solitary Ogre continue to stand its ground inside the inner courtyard, oblivious to our presence.

"Sanada," I grunted, "give Okuda all of your C4."

"What? Why me?" Okuda asked out of surprise before grumbling, "of course I'm volunteered."

"You're being voluntold Okuda. There's a difference," I replied with a small smile, "besides, you're the demo expert."

"He's pretty much an expert at everything Captain. Just give a PhD in modern warfare," Ige let out a small laugh, pressing on his bandage to make sure it wasn't dripping with blood.

Blood was still dripping slowly from the field dressing.

"If I may sir, I'd like to split off and go look for the two girls. I'll be back for the main push," Sanada asked politely.

My lips pressed into a thin line from thought.

"You think you can keep yourself safe?" I asked, tapping and racking my rifle in preparation for the fast assault.

"Yes sir," Sanada nodded confidently.

"I'll come with you," Ishihara added as his childhood friend shook his head.

"No," Sanada stated firmly, "this is something I have to do 'Michi. If I don't…it won't sit right with me at night. I feel like it's my responsibility for the safety of those kids."

Ige winced with a brotherly smile as he rubbed the top of the younger man's helmet, "maybe you're not just full of air and shit after all Sanada."

"Give it your all Sanada," I gave the younger man a pat on the shoulder, "we'll see you back inside the hall or near the walls if you can't make it back inside."

"Thank you Captain. It means a lot to me," a small smile appeared on Sanada's face as he pushed up his night vision goggles.

"Alright, Okuda, Ige, you two will set the charges. Ishihara and I will cover you as you prep the C4 for detonation and if anything happens, we roll with it," I ordered, jogging towards the right of the inner courtyard.

"Ryokai!" grunted the three men.

We pushed up our NODs, no longer needed them from the large orbs of light flickering above us. Orange from the illumination rounds lit up the ground in a dimming radiance. The parachute rounds were most likely on their last legs before exhausted of its fuel. The trail of smoke extended far from its right being blown far off course by the strong winds. Cracks of bullets were loud in my ears as we approached the walls packed with fighters, their backs turned to us. Splashing of our boots were one of many in the crowd of bandits and rebels.

Zips and whistling slammed into men far behind us. Large rounds from the fifty caliber M107A1s hammered into specific targets. One of the men with a large Galea and a colorful purple transverse crest was still wearing his old Imperial armor, most likely to show his loyalty to the previous emperor or Zorzal. The center of his chest where his polished protective armor sat exploded in a cloud of white sparks and light. A mist of red was throw out from the small blast, his left arm being blown off from the force of the Raufoss's impact. A small ring of orange fire was all that was left of the man's chest. It would continue to burn up to fifteen minutes from the extremely hot zirconium powder. The high explosive incendiary detonated after penetrating the thin armor that offered negligible resistance, delivering the tungsten carbide penetrator into the centurion's spine.

Akagi and Sawada seldom aimed for headshots unless it was a hostage situation. The head was a small target and even an experienced marksman struggled to hit such a small target at five hundred meters. The spread of a tightly tuned bolt rifle was that of half an MOA. At five hundred meters the half inch group became two and a half inches and at the ranges Akagi and Sawada were engaged in, the chance of missing became too high for comfort.

 _Clack! Clack!_

Ishihara and I squeezed off two rounds.

Fighters turned around and blinked twice before realizing what had happened. I guess the surprise of seeing a small group of green men already inside the courtyard was unbelievable to them. Two holes were punched into their leather armor, blood dripping from their chest as they collapsed with a dull splash into the mud. Gasping escaped from their mouth. Blood no longer being pumped through their body and to their brain. They would suffocate, being unable to breathe and die from blood loss to the brain. It was slower than a straight tap to the head but it was far better than burning to death by a fire hotter than a dragon's breath. The four of us moved swiftly, firing off the silent subsonic rounds at the men and women that recognized us. Our helmet lights were turned to a low identification-only intensity. A flickering red blinked at the side and rear of the helmet light to provide friendly identification as we reached the gate that was clear of any protection save the ogre. We were in the shadows of the large entrance, even lightning that flashed overhead wasn't able to illuminate us behind the giant faceless barrier.

"How much time do you need?" I grunted, crouching behind Okuda with my rifle aimed into the inner courtyard.

"Three minutes tops," mumbled Okuda.

"Can't you hurry it up?" I murmured back.

"You want us to get blown up in the process as well? You can't rush perfection," Okuda grumbled, ruffling from his pack heard loudly as the rain started to slow.

With a grumble, I turned my attention back to the bandits gathering on the walls to throw greased bottles filled with oil, alcohol and anything they could get their hands on onto the top of the walls. Slaves screamed with each gunshot fired in the now drizzling rain. Flashes of light from the muzzles of the weapons lit up the night briefly from all sides. Their screaming seemed to be almost constant as they threw themselves inside the tarps and tents littering the entire courtyard like a middle eastern market filled with customers. The situation was hectic, complete chaos. I kept my head on a swivel. Gunfire no longer made me twitchy but it was the simplest sounds that made my head snap towards the stimulus with frightened speed. A pebble skipping along the stone ground, the clanking of armor from warrior wandering far too close towards the shadow of the gate, simple things had made me paranoid.

Bodies started to stink from the start of decomposition and constant exposure to rain. My eyes glanced to a corpse laying down just outside the protective shade of the entrance. The man was long dead, most likely from the Tomahawk strike just in behind the gate to kill both elite troops and troops guarding the gate. His right arm and leg was torn from his body from the explosive force. His head was turned completely around, tilted towards his back at a right angle. The white in his corneas were flooded with red, his cheeks and side of his head swollen with water. Blood had leaked out of his body. Rain water had seeped in instead of the blood. Yellow, green and purple pockmarked his once tanned skin.

 _Mrhmm…_

My eyes snapped to the Ogre.

I could see his nose sniffing, eyes glancing over towards the gate.

"Okuda," I murmured under my breath pressing the switch on my throat microphone, "Okuda, you done yet?"

"Give me another minute!" he hissed from behind me.

I gulped, a tingle running up my spine.

"Okami Actual, Shelldrake, requesting smoke rounds on the inner courtyard as per coordinates on the master map. Four gun spread, immediate obscuring smoke, danger close. As soon as possible, repeat, immediate obscuring smoke danger close on inner courtyard as soon as possible," I whispered into the radio after switching channels.

"Stand by Okami, illumination rounds are currently underway! Will comply as soon as possible!" the artillery coordinator screamed back, the prominent thumping from the artillery rounds loud in the background.

"Fuck," I hissed in English.

A rumble shook the ground.

The ogre's gaze was locked on us. His large arms and armored hands were pulling the large hammer across its chest. White mists of warm air shot out from underneath its helmeted head. One of its large foot had stepped forward as it began its move towards us.

"Sawada," I mumbled, "we need covering fire on the ogre inside the inner courtyard. Do it now…DO IT NOW!"

 _Arrgh!_

 _Clack! Clack!_

This was one of the stranger things I had done in my career. Never in my dreams had I imagined that I would be fighting an ogre that stood taller than one hundred and eighty centimeters. It was actually two stories tall but that was taller than any human I had ever encountered let alone fighting in a totally different world. Here I was far from home without any family except for the eight men that would gladly give their lives for me, my brothers, my second family. If it killed me, I would fight tooth and nail to make sure they got out alive and it was vice versa for them. Far behind enemy lines with limited support, I gritted my teeth and emptied my magazine.

"On the way!" Sawada hissed in my ears.

A loud bang exploded seconds later, a white spark shooting out from the ogre's helmet.

It roared out in pain.

Loud thumps were heard from its feet as it staggered.

My eyes flickered between the large hole in its helmet as I got up to sprint. A giant hole was carved out of the metal with bright yellow burning on the rims of the small crater. The Raufoss rounds had struck the helmet but didn't penetrate it. Two inches of rolled homogenous steel was how much the Mark 211 Mod 0 bullet could penetrate. How thick was this thing's helmet? Was it even steel or a mix of exotic materials only found in this region? Thoughts continued to run through my head as I ducked into the tents where the warriors used to sleep. Naturally the slaves screamed and the warriors bellowed out a war cry that deafened my protected ears but that didn't matter as much as what was about to happen just seconds after.

The orange glow dimmed before flickering out, the parachute flares running out of fuel before another popped overhead to bathe the entire area in a renewed radiance. A loud whack of air could be heard behind me but I didn't turn to look. I knew what was happening. Screaming from both bandits and slaves haunted my ears along with the breaking of wooden poles, denting of metal objects and the sickening splat and crack of flesh and bones was earsplitting in the air. I could feel the air slamming into my back as well as warm liquid splattering against the nape of my neck. There was no time to collect my thoughts, no time to feel remorse about what had just happened. I had to focus on the mission.

"Rounds complete!" yelled a hoarse voice in my right ear.

"Raiden, Shelldrake rounds complete out."

"Shelldrake, Okami, fire target inner courtyard! Immediate smoke, obscuration time two minutes! Time of flight thirty-eight! Danger close!" there was a pause from the man, his voice probably lost from all the yelling, "rounds out!"

Another loud bang exploded behind me.

I glanced back to see a burst of blood exploding from the ogre's shoulder. While the fifty caliber bullet had massive impact on human beings, it had the same impact as nine millimeter rounds on giant ogres. A large exit wound opened up on his left shoulder. Burnt flesh continued to burn from the highly flammable powder from the tip of the Raufoss bullet. Reddened flesh and muscle was still fresh underneath, cooked like a rare steak and leaked an abundance of red liquid onto the ground. Never mind a puddle forming, a small river of blood quickly formed running down all sides of the well reinforced courtyard. Whitish cracked bone was out in the open for the world to see. The ogre's left arm from the shoulder down was limp and unusable after being struck by the tungsten carbide penetrator. His right biceps bulged as he took hold of the hammer with one hand. The large, wide flat head of the war hammer slammed into the ground with a powerful earth shaking thud.

"Rounds complete!" squeaked the artillery coordinator.

Thirty-eight seconds until the first shell hits, thirty-eight seconds for me to make sure my men won't die.

Lifting up my rifle, I squeezed off more shots. Not at the ogre, but at the warriors who were now alerted to me and what I was really here to do. I was nothing more than a spy to them, an assassin that went behind enemy lines to cut off the head of the snake. The truth was much worse. The destruction we could cause could be scaled up much higher. The bombing of the senate building could testify to that. This was a precision operation. A laser focus compared to the massacre we could cause with our weapons. Nevertheless, there would be civilian and innocent lives lost in a battle this large – collateral damage.

The ogre stumbled forward as another round zipped across the air. A large chunk of flesh was carved from its chest. Another scream of pain erupted from its throat in a mighty roar. Blood poured forward from its new wound turning the ground around it slick with blood instead of rain. Rushing fighters lunged at me with their swords, only to be put down by heavy rounds. One bullet was enough to put the charging bandits into the ground. Men, women, teens even children, I didn't even care. Adrenaline was pumping and the savage drive to survive kicked in – it was me or them. Thirty rounds in each magazine seemed too little and I was running extended magazines on my Mark 17. They closed in from all around, forming a blob around me similar to an undead horde. A grunt of frustration escaped my lips.

A familiar clicking sound rang from my rifle.

I canted the weapon left and saw a partially open chamber, the glint of two brass cartridges wedged into barrel.

Weapon jam.

"Ishihara! I need cover!" I screamed into the now open voice channel.

"Bit…busy!" the younger man yelled out in my left ear.

There was no one except for myself to depend on.

My right hand instinctively went to my thigh and drew the service pistol.

The P226 Elite Dark came up smoothly. The pistol only had fifteen rounds in its extended magazine, fifteen less than the SCAR-H. The red dot I had installed on the weapon was already on. Dim from being always on, there was enough battery to illuminate the red dot brightly in the dark night. I held the sidearm with one hand outstretched while the other drew the combat knife still slick with blood from my battle belt in a reverse grip. Two men ran at me with leather armor. Daggers were held in their hands with the tip pointed straight for my neck. I took a quick glance to see at least a dozen more rushing towards me with many more behind them.

I had to get out of tents and into the small muddied streets.

"What's going on with the gate Okami?!" a voice yelled in my right ear.

"We're ready to blow it sir!" I yelled back, feeling the P226 jump twice in my right hand.

It was a lie of course.

"Then blow the gate down!" screamed Colonel Kengun.

"Okuda!" I bellowed and jumped over a wooden table.

"I heard him! We're going hot in fifteen seconds!" answered the Master Sergeant.

My body barreled through cloth and smashed through furniture before coming to a skidding stop in the middle of a small street in between the myriad of tents. I turned around to see another fighter with Gladius thrusting straight at me. Sidestepping left at the last moment, a sensation of burning hot searing flared up against my left arm. The fighter stopped dead in his tracks. His armor made it hard to come to a halt from the continued momentum. Shining steel curved up to meet me as I stepped forward. My pistol jabbed into the warrior's leather armor with a loud crack on his chest. I could feel the threaded barrel of the sidearm pushing just a bit deeper than it should into the man's chest. With a squeeze of the trigger, a loud bang blew open his chest. Both the muzzle blast and the large .40 S&W hollow point was all directed into his torso. Blood splattered my body like an aerosol can exploding. I didn't have time to rest as three more were not far behind the now dead warrior. His swing suddenly became soft, the blade missing my head by mere inches from the sudden lost in strength. But, he had landed a glancing blow. A burning hot sensation shot across my left arm as the blade had nicked my left arm. Cloth was sliced smoothly open. I could feel each centimeter of skin swiftly carved open. Warm liquid ran down my arm as I gritted my teeth in annoyance and frustration.

The man crumpled into the ground with a gasp.

"Splash!" Ige screamed on the radio.

A series of flashes and a thick blanket of white bloomed overhead. Explosive pops rang loudly in my ears. My eyes glanced briefly upwards to see a ball of white. Tendrils had splayed in all directions. White disemboweled fingers reached downwards without the characteristic burning orange of white phosphorous. Tinkling was heard quickly afterwards, the smoke canisters slamming into the ground. The smoke quickly started to plume and gather into a thick cloud of white that consumed the entire labyrinth of living spaces and tents within a handful of seconds. Acrid scents punched my nose as I took large breaths of smog. It left a bitter aftertaste as my balaclava did little to filter out the thick screen of white. I'm glad the artillerymen had the decency to use standard colored smoke shells instead of white or red phosphorous that were highly toxic to any lifeform. Instead of the burning sensations that singed away eyes, lungs and skin, there was only the strong smell of sulfur almost like a burnt magnesium rod to deal with.

"Going hot!" Okuda warned.

 _Bang! Creak!_

The explosion turned my attention back to gate and the shadow still looming in the smoke. I heard the bang, I heard the denting and bending of metal but no loud thud of the gate.

Something was wrong.

"Why is the gate not down yet Okami?!" bellowed Colonel Kengun.

"Charges damaged the hinges but it's still standing and the locking mechanism's still intact!" Okuda replied on the comms channel, "get the tanks to fire on the gate! It should force the doors wide open!"

"Hagane (Steel) 1, Hagane 1 this is Raiden Actual! Get that gate open ASAP!"

"Raiden Actual, Steel 1, loading HE-OR-T. Stand by for obstacle reduction," came the swift reply from the tank commander.

"Hit the deck!" I screamed into the radio.

"Obstacle reduction, one round. On the way!" came the warning.

 _Boom! Whump!_

Shadows were blurry in the smoke. Blurred outlines shot from where the gate was and slammed into the large silhouette with a sickening crunch. I could feel the heat from the explosion and the white smog parting from the speed of the large slabs of metal. Wet, warm liquid splattered onto my body, shards of hardened material cutting hot burning marks across my cheek. My eyes instinctively closed. Another loud bang shook the air followed by the crumbling of stones and rocks. Cracking and squishing could be heard as the stones dropped onto whatever rested underneath. A last groan rumbled through the courtyard as a loud crack silenced the noise forever.

Roaring from tank diesel engines thundered from beyond the white smoke. Rumbling from the 1,500 horsepower engine dominated the air, the treads reverberating and rattling underneath the heavy weight of the main battle tanks. Each stroke of the powerful 4-stroke cycle V8 engine could be felt hammering through my body. A boxy silhouette phased into existence from inside the white smoke. The boxy but sloped front of the Type 10 Hitomaru's frontal hull and turret clear in the dissipating obscuring mist. Its powerful 120mm main gun swiveled around the inner courtyard using powerful thermal sights to cut through the smoke. Shapes and figures poured in from the other side of the gate, rushing into the exposed inside walls of the keep.

Imperial legionaries wearing white cloaks along with Japanese infantry hurried forward from behind the tank's protective hull and into battle. Through the calming fog, I could see the Type 10 outfitted with new armor. Explosive Reactive Armor was bolted on to the sides of the hull and the turret like blocky bricks of disposable armor. The new equipment was probably the procured through the usual spiel from the Diet and the Ministry of Defense. 'We need new technology to survive in the Special Region,' in other words upping the equipment and defense budget with the approval from the public to better contend with the rapidly militarizing Chinese and the Special Region was the perfect place to test out the new equipment.

Smoke had disappeared within the next minute and from behind the tank, a large frame walked out casually despite the striking of steel, gunfire and the roaring of men.

"Anderson!" the voice called out gruffly.

Either I was going to get flak or get praised.

"Colonel Kengun, sir," I replied in a loud voice, simply walking up to him.

A slight twitch in his left eyebrow was mostly likely from the frustration of me not saluting but nonetheless he said with a loud booming voice, "otsukareda. Thanks for your air, ship and arty support. Especially for the spot on intelligence and pre-operation planning. Although, you were slightly late on that gate."

"Slightly," I said with a small smile.

"Slightly," he replied glancing around the area as a handful of arrows went whizzing by our heads without so much of a flinch from us and bouncing off the metal skin of the tank, "well then, give me your report Captain."

I recounted everything that happened during the operation. A small notepad I had procured from my admin pouch strapped to my chest and sealed in a plastic Ziploc bag was used for approximate times and positions throughout our journey up to the keep. My eyes flickered over to Kengun as his expression started to get darker and darker when I mentioned the blood magic, serpent mages and the knight who had been augmented with the mysterious life-force magic. By the end of the report, Kengun was rubbing his chin and upper lip stubble. He had probably not shaved since the start of his journey a couple weeks back. A few minutes passed, the combined forces of the Japanese and Imperial soldiers had secured most of the courtyard with remnants of the rebels either fleeing through the secret exits or surrendering. The slaves were gathered by the soldiers and given food, water and medical attention. A tall women clothed in camouflage with long flowing black hair appeared with the third wave of soldiers, rushing in with a team of medics to the nearest group of slaves.

"Well done Captain, I'll assign a squad of infantry to you to bolster your ranks. Make sure you finish the job you're assigned to do by the MoD," Colonel Kengun stated, concluding our short debrief, "dismissed."

I gave the operations commander a nod.

"Saber 8! Sergeant First Class Sano! Get your men and report to the Captain wearing different camouflage!" I heard Colonel Kengun yell.

Ige, Ishihara and Okuda were sitting down right by the castle walls with Sanada. The four of them were huddled around a crying pair of catgirls no bigger than a middle schooler. The two of them clung onto the 1AB member. It was like Sanada had suddenly became a father the two children as they gripped firmly onto his camouflage combat shirt. Ige was sitting down and glanced at his wound. A blot of red had formed from the center of his bandaged bicep. A sharp sting shot through the side of my face as I remembered the shrapnel I had received from the reinforced metal gates being blown open. Gloved hands pulled out small bits of whitish shards from my face. The bone was covered in bloody as I flicked the pieces down onto the ground. Crouching down, I took a brief look at all my men resting.

Everyone except Sanada was panting from exhaustion.

"Hey Ige," I murmured, "take a walk with me."

"Can't it wait honcho (squad leader)?" Ige groaned, his voice raspy.

"I don't want you to miss his opportunity," I grunted as my hands started to tear open his field dressing.

"Captain – what? W-wait what's going on…what are you doing?" the SBU member protested weakly.

The wound was still fresh and the muscle slightly bleeding as I pulled out my combat knife and slashed at the area around the muscle. Ige didn't even flinch. He was too tried to even care. Adrenaline from combat had worn out and the exhaustion was catching up to each of them. I even felt slightly dizzy from overexertion, staggering slightly as I grabbed onto his uninjured arm and slinging it over my neck. The two of us limped over towards the other side of the courtyard. The lone Type 10 had turned around with its 120mm main gun pointed out of the doorway, rocks and bricks from the impact of the tank round detonating against the reinforced metal of the gate doors. A fresh squad of soldiers came running towards me. Their squad leader looked at me with a quizzical look, stray strands of black hair falling out of her helmet from effort. Dirt and blood caked her weathered face, her entire uniform face. She was pretty by any means nor ugly. A definite seven out of ten, maybe a five out of then back in Japan. Angular glistening eyes stared back at me. It looked like she was still sane after the initial shell shock.

"Captain!" she snapped a crisp salute as her men wheezed behind her.

"Mhmm," I grunted back a reply, "gather up with my men back there. I've got to get this guy to the medic."

"I don't need a –" words fell out of Ige's mouth as I pulled him closer towards me, pressing on his wound.

A yelp of pain escaped from his mouth.

I smiled at the Sergeant First Class.

"Y-yes sir," she stammered and turned around to her men, "let's go people move it!"

"Urgh, yes Sergeant," groaned the baby faced soldiers.

"Why'd you do that?" Ige grunted as I dragged the exhausted ox towards a group of medics tending to both slaves and warriors alike.

"You'll understand soon…look, you have to report back to me once I do this for you okay? Make sure that this mission ends in a success," I murmured in his ear and squeezed his injured arm, blood dripping freely down his dirt caked skin.

"Argh! What mission? You all there Captain?" Ige groaned back a reply.

"Medic!" I bellowed, "Medic!"

From the hunched over group bandaging wounded fighters and sticking IV drips into the malnourished slaves, a familiar face turned around to face us. Her gloved hands were stained with blood as she wiped the sweat off of her forehead with the latex. Long black hair was tied to the right of her chest with a bright blue bow much like the one tied just above his wounded arm. It was a makeshift tourniquet. A good luck charm from the woman standing in front of us as her eyes scrunched up with worry as she recognized the two of us. One of us was completely exhausted, the weight on my neck heavy and skin getting paler with each passing moment. In addition to the loss of the adrenaline that kept us going, Ige also lost a lot of blood. Carrying a rifle with a large wound was a feat few could pull off.

"Captain Anderson?" she asked before her eyes glanced over to the man next to me, "Ige-san!"

Sergeant Kurokawa gently lifted his heavy arm off of my neck and placed it over hers. The moment Mari took over caring for Ige, the two of them were in their own little bubble. Her subordinates and superiors didn't mind that her sole attention was focused on the Special Boarding Unit soldier. We were too costly to lose. I was about to say something, mouth opening and closing before turning around on my heel and marching back towards my men. Two of the soldiers from Sergeant Sano's squad was consoling the children while Sanada took a small break. He might have gotten pushed into more responsibility but he didn't forget his duty to the mission.

That was the way things were with us – mission first.

"Captain," I heard a familiar monotonous voice from behind me.

I turned around to see the Lieutenant leisurely walking towards us, nonchalant about the battle raging around him.

"Ikeda?" I asked, my brows furled in thought, "where's the Inspector?"

"Tending to the elf. He's carrying her on his back up the stairs towards the medics at the front gate. Kazuki said not to 'wait for this old man'…his words not mine, and carry on with the operation," Ikeda explained.

"Fair enough. Sanada, you're staying here and taking the kids to one of the APCs, make sure they're safe and double back with Kazuki. I have a feeling we'll be needing all the bodies we can get," I grumbled.

"You got it boss," Sanada nodded.

I turned to the newly arrived nine soldiers laying down on the ground. They looked up at the skies, drizzles of rain water softly splashing onto their greasy tanned faces from hours in the sun. While tan, they were anything but battle hardened. Their baby faces betrayed their built bodies that have seen countless hours in the gym after drills and exercises. One could only assume they had too much free time on their hands. Manning guard posts, performing civil duties to help out the neighboring communities and maybe a smattering of live-fire exercises every few weeks or so. Sergeant Sano stared at the men under her command with disappointment. Maybe it was because she was standing in front of the special operation soldiers or her yearning to do well at her chosen career path. She was a Sergeant First Class after all, she must have given the JGSDF a good five to eight years of her life to the service.

With a grumble, I glanced down at my weapon and equipment.

Four and a half magazines, two grenades and a single PDM mine spent.

With a sigh, I turned to the group and spoke, "listen up boys and girls. I'll make it plain and simple for those green to actual warfare, well I wouldn't call this actual warfare but there's still blood being spilt so either ways it's a war. Okami's objective is the capture of the Berserker. He's the leader of this entire keep. Why he needs to be taken in by the JSDF, you don't have to know. All you have to know is that he's very, _very_ dangerous so do as I say when I say it otherwise people will die. This is our and by our I mean the special operations' world now."

"Welcome to the jungle rookies," Okuda growled, his former abrasive instructor personality kicking in.

"Do try to keep up," Ishihara smiled.

We were cocky and we had a reason to be.

We were the best the Japanese Special Forces had to offer.


	15. Chapter 14: To Fell a Champion

**Author's Note** : No this story is not dead, far from it. But There's been one thing that has been eating up my time writing, that's real life and writer's block. From here on out chapters might update anywhere from just a week or two to a month since I have no idea when I'm going to get a chance to sit down and write for an extended period of time. I'm just happy I got two chapters done to post before the end of this month. This marks the end of the first arc of So We Stand. The second will be coming early next month if not by the end of it. But without further ado, please enjoy the newest chapters of So We Stand.

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Chapter 14: To Fell a Champion

"Clearing!" yelled one of the soldiers from Sergeant Sano's squad.

There was a twitch from the corner of Okuda's brow.

"You want everyone in the keep to know we're here? Keep it down," Ishihara hissed.

"Sorry, I'm kind of excited to be working with you guys! You guys are like legends among us normal infantry guys, they even have an article out about your achievements on a military magazine!" the soldier replied energetically.

I had nothing against these soldiers, I really didn't. If I saw a famous celebrity I would be the exact same way – heart beating, hands clammy and mind racing a million miles a second. But that was on the streets in a relatively safe neighborhood with policemen patrolling the area also known as the civilian world. This wasn't the civilian world. Eagerness to please and performance anxiety often led to mistakes. And mistakes lead to death. Okuda knew, Ishihara knew, all of my team knew it.

We were rapidly ascending the keep passing through the first and second floor without any resistance. Locals had given us additional intel on the personal guard the berserker kept. There were two kinds – the honor guard was comprised of his former comrades now turned leader of the bandit army equipped with lavishly expensive armor made from the dragon scales sold by survey team in Italica and the other was the blood guard. The blood guard was made up of five members, all of them having close ties to The Berserker personally. The one with the great sword used to be his brother. While the berserker was an esteemed military leader, his older brother was running with bandits and had picked up the two-handed fighting style from the great bear folk far to the north in the mountains of snow and ice. That was where he met and conversed with the infamous Prince Zorzal before leaving the village once his training had finished. The other members were his sister, his mentor, a protégé and his best friend. His protégé and friend were gone, presumably to act as Zorzal's personal bodyguards. The information revealed far too late into the operation as per usual.

He probably already knew that we were coming.

Plans were already being laid to capture Prince Zorzal, it was already in the works since the coronation of Empress Pina. Politics always delayed plans well laid. Essentially a circle-jerk of go, no-goes and delays plagued high command. Birds chirping from inside the ministry of defense trickled down information that the Eastern Army was out for blood after the attack on Ginza. They wanted to publicly bring in Prince Zorzal with the journalists riding shotgun as retribution for the enslavement of civilians. With each passing day, the decision was moving closer to using standard infantry to perform a job that Special Forces were trained to do. Special Forces would be moved to the support role like we always are in the JGSDF.

Only in COIN (COunter INsurgency), hostage operations and VIP protection would we be the main unit.

"Move up," Ikeda muttered and waved the baby-faced soldiers forward.

Their footsteps were loud against the stone floor, clattering reverberating in the stone made walls. Our boots were made from the same material yet their footfalls were louder. The soldiers carelessly stomped into the corridor lit by flashes of lightning and the blinding glow of the illumination rounds through the small square portholes. Sounds of crunching glass, wood and rattling metal from knocked down decorations and ornaments reverberated from beneath their heavy boots. Unsecured magazines clattered against each other in their pouches along with unsecured equipment. Their standard issue weapon straps banged against the metal of their Howa rifles and optic securing bolts jangled loosely from their clumsy movement. We followed closely behind, making sure our footsteps were well placed and deft against the ground. Our weapons were brought up smoothly to scan every inch of space for the shapes of hostiles.

Another corridor leading to more rooms.

This floor wasn't our stop.

"Staircase up to the next floor's blocked. We need to find another way up," Ishihara reported.

A grunt of annoyance escaped from my throat.

"If the keeps are designed to withstand battle there has to be more than one way up," Ikeda muttered, deep in thought, "I suggest we check the other end of the keep."

"Let's keep it loose. Ishihara, you're on point and you," I pointed to the excited soldier, "what's your name, kid?"

"Private Soga Masato sir," he replied instantly and stiffened from the sudden attention.

"Stagger behind Ishihara. He walks on one side of the hall you walk on the other. Never drop your rifle below the low ready position, understood?" I instructed as Sago raised his hand hesitantly.

"We're not in class rookie just speak up," Okuda stated.

"What's the low ready position?" Sago asked absentmindedly.

"Raise your rifle," instructed Okuda roughly.

Sago did as he was told, raising his rifle – the barrel pointing towards me.

"Aho!" Okuda hissed and swatted Sago's weapon with an open palm towards the wall, "did they teach you to never aim your weapon at a person you don't intend to shoot?"

"Sorry," he peeped apologetically.

"Low ready is when your weapon's raised but the muzzle pointed slightly downwards so you can snap it up when a threat presents itself. You understand?" Okuda replied as the soldier nodded, confusion still remaining in his mind, "just copy what Ishihara's doing."

"Who?"

"Me," grunted Ishihara, who was just only two years older than Sago.

With an annoyed grunt, Ishihara stood up with his rifle raised but still pointed towards the ground. His HK416C sparkling in what little light that poured through the spaced and small windows lining the corridor. Halfway down the wide passage, large wooden double doors were gaping open. One of the thick wooden flaps were splintered and half smashed to smithereens. A howling draft blew in from the open doors brushing gently against my skin with a chilling touch. Clanking from armor plates and clinking of chain mail rang in the silence of pitter-pattering rain drizzling against the dusty and often broken glass. Voices came from inside the large room, reverberating with a gravely bass before another voice belonging to a woman replied. Words couldn't be made out only heard. There were at least two or more inside the room. Ishihara held up his right fist and stopped the entire formation in its tracks.

His right hand moved backwards with his palm wide open. He paused for a few moments to make sure that everyone understood the signal before curling his right hand into a fist and tapping on his helmet with his knuckles down. Hand signals were different from unit to unit but a few set of gestures were standardized throughout the world for close range engagements. I glanced back and pointed towards each soldier before pointing towards myself and waving us towards the other side of the door. The seven of us cautiously crossed the open entrance, my eyes catching a glimpse of the figures standing inside. One was covered in heavy plating similar to the blood guard we fought in the entrance hall while the other was slim, leather-like padding covered her entire body with solid molded plates hugging her frame. The hourglass figure was clearly shown despite the interwoven layers of chainmail, cloth, metal plates and leather.

Sergeant Sano and two of her men were stacked up behind me. Okuda was at the rear of the stacked formation pulling rear security. My body tensed up, mind racing through hundreds of the possible scenarios that could happen once we stormed through the double doors gun blazing. All of them ended badly. We weren't without support. It was the edge that we would need to win encounters when stacked with magic buffed super soldiers. Failing that, I still had a number of forty millimeter grenades left on my webbing.

I squeezed the push to talk button on my vest, "Sawada, Anderson."

"Sawada here, go for message," breathed the marksman with an effort filled grunt and the sound of trickling liquid in the background.

"You good?" I murmured.

"Yeah, just drank a lot of water," he sighed back, "what do you need Captain?"

"One floor down from the top of the keep. Center of the building, two tangoes in armor," I shot back quickly, rustling told me that the soldiers behind me were getting restless and were starving for action.

"What are we waiting for they're just wearing plate armor like the guys we fought on the way to the keep. Come on Araki, let's show these big metal bastards that they don't stand a chance against our bullets!" one of the soldiers yelled out with eagerness.

"Boke!" I cursed, hand reaching out to grab the eager soldier only to miss him by a few centimeters, "Sawada! You have a clear shot you take it and take it now! The rest of you, suppressive fire!"

"Araki, Ide! Get back here! That's an order!" Sergeant Sano yelled desperately.

The two young soldiers ran straight into the room.

Their heavy boots slamming the floor in loud thuds while their equipment rattled from the rapid movement. The two of them stopped halfway before reaching the now alerted warriors. Loud bangs blasted out from their barrels, bullets striking the armor with hot steel and lead. Sparks exploded from the impacts lighting up the large hall in a series of rapid flashes. While the larger warrior was pelted with sparks and bullets, the slimmer rogue darted around the large room filled with furniture and pillars to dodge the incoming bullets with an almost superhuman ease. She felt slow compared to the seemly agile yet towering fighter we faced just minutes earlier. The two young men's fire was focused at first but upon seeing that not one bullet had any effect, their shots became more frazzled and desperate. I slapped my magazine to make sure it was seated before leveling my rifle and peering through the optics. Squeezing the trigger, I fired at the dagger wielding female. She was closing the gap much faster than the tall shield and long sword wielding brute.

"Make it rain!" Okuda screamed.

A wall of lead exploded from the combined fire of the team. More sparks erupted from the brutish warrior. Fiery remnants from the copper jacketed bullets turned molten slag of red, yellow and orange struck the stone ground, pillars and ceiling. The slimmer female started taking hits as well. Shoulders jerked back as if she was being punched, there was a slight stagger before her hands went towards her hip. Drops of blood started to leak from what we thought was an impenetrable armor. As she came within a few feet of the soldiers, she stepped in front of them to use them as human shields. I paused my fire, reaching down to grab armor-piercing ammunition from my pouches. My left digits gripped both magazines to perform a swift tactical reload. Wisps of smoke rose from inside the SCAR's elongated reddened barrel and suppressor. Through the shimmering scratched riddled glass of the magnified EoTech, I watched as Ide clutched at his shoulder and stumble backwards onto the floor. Araki was lifted off his feet. The small soldier was barely even five feet four inches tall as a glint of reddened steel punched through his chest and abdomen. Red liquid poured from the blades and onto the ground with a pained yelp rising from the soldier's throat. Flickering lights from the lightning outside filled the room with brief illumination as soft padded footfalls tapped on the ground. The female rogue was using Araki's body to shield herself from our bullets.

"Araki! Ide!" Sano yelled, rushing forwards with her gun raised but not firing.

 _Crack, crack! Bang!_

Two bullets pierced the thick glass windows.

One detonated prematurely, sending its tungsten carbide penetrator veering off course and slamming through a dense stone pillar. Stone cracked from the impact and shattered like exploding wood. The other struck the rogue and sent her barreling into the ground. Araki's body was freed from her grip, crumpling lifelessly into the ground. I followed Sano into the large room, which upon a quick inspection was used as a grand dining hall. The warrior armed with a shield and longsword bashed through Araki's body with his tall shield. A sickening crunch of bones snapping could be heard but nothing came out of Araki's lips, not even a pained groan. I leveled my gun once again and pulled the trigger. Armor piercing rounds sparked against the shield and his helmet. I was focused on sending one well-placed around through his small eye holes to immediately decapitate him if not immobilize the hulking piece of charging metal.

My lips pressed together in sheer focused.

I could feel a bead of sweat sliding down from inside my helmet and sweat slicked hair.

Breathing slowed. I could feel my own vision starting to close down around me into a small pinprick that was the warrior's left eye. Buried deep behind the glass-thin gem, I visualized my target and the bullet hitting the optical organ. I didn't know if the heavy bullet could penetrate the material but I would have to try or else all of my men and Sergeant Sano's would be slaughtered. My thumb flicked the fire selector from A to 1. The red reticule burned into my right eye, swaying slightly from side to side from the unstable standing position. My left arm started to burn from the heavy weight of the rifle and the under-barrel grenade launcher. I held off until the last second, with each step he was getting closer into melee range but the target I aimed at was getting larger as well. My right index finger depressed the heavy trigger until there was a clean break and a stiff kick to the right shoulder.

 _Thwack!_

A spark of yellow struck the warrior's left lens. I saw the bullet ricochet at the bottom of the reddened gem, shattering the gem and sending shards of crystal into the helmet along with the energetic round. A spurt of bright red shot out from inside the helmet and dripped down the dragon scale like a tear drop of blood. The large hunk of moving metal suddenly collapsed into the ground. It was like we had unplugged his power cord. Without power, he could not move. I stormed in with my weapon still trained on the metal body. The three of my men followed my actions smoothly and quickly filled the room with their presence. We controlled the room with Ishihara and I focused on the warrior while Ikeda and Okuda moved swiftly to secure the Rogue laid sideways against one of the broken pillars.

Loud bangs and whizzes filled the air.

My head snapped left to see Sergeant Sano firing her weapon into the lifeless body beside Ishihara and I. The metal frame did nothing but shake slightly from side to side from the impact of the bullets, deflecting the bullets into the walls and pillars next to us. Hot tears streamed down from her face, her expression a contorted visage of sadness and anger. My hand moved swiftly towards the handguard and grabbed it. With a hard jerk, I stripped the Type 89 from her hands. By then, she had used up all the ammunition in her thirty-round magazine before collapsing into the ground. Her body hunched over as if the energy had just evaporated from her body. There was no point in scolding her in front of her men. That would make her look weak especially since what just happened wasn't her fault in the slightest. Tough their mistake would be burned into mind forever. Her men were frozen unsure of what just happened, their movements were slow and clumsy as they approached their dead friend.

"A-Araki?" one of the soldiers whimpered, I could sense the lump of dread in his throat.

"You're not d-dead right? You're just playing, right? Come on Akagi stop playing," another one muttered.

Three of them crowded around their comrade as I slowly paced towards them, bracing for what I knew would happen next. I glanced towards Ishihara and nodded my head in the direction of Sergeant Sano. I stopped just behind them as one of the young soldiers placed their hand on Akagi's shoulder. A puddled of blood was quickly building from the front of Akagi while Ide grunted with pain as Ikeda tended to him. Physical wounds would mend, but he would forever relive this moment each time his eyes closed. As they turned their fallen comrade over, they were greeted with a grim visage. Slack jaw, blood dripping from his nose and eyes and large dent where his forehead used to be. A large knife wound at the center of his chest had sliced his heart, killing him within minutes of the small confrontation.

There was nothing we could do to save him – especially when he was no longer breathing.

"Hey, Araki. Speak to me man," tears were starting to fall from his friends.

One stepped back before regurgitating his dinner all over the stone floor.

"Araki, come on," one of them sobbed, pulling their friend's lifeless body into an embrace.

As Araki's body was pulled up, I could see his right forearm snapping at an inhuman angle and was clearly broken.

His squad mates let out a howl of anguish and sorrow that echoed throughout the room. Four of his friends gathered around the corpse, placing their arms on their comrade's shoulders while tears splashed onto the cold stone ground. My gaze turned to Sergeant Sano. Her eyes had a lifeless gaze as she stumbled onto her feet. Hands grabbed her empty Howa. Sano pulled out the magazine and slapped in a new one without so much of a glance towards her weapon. When everything goes blank, your training kicks in. I moved in front of her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You're not going anywhere," I grumbled and glanced towards Ikeda.

The 2IC gave me a quick nod, telling me that Ide was going to be fine.

"Araki…I have to get his head on a stick," Sergeant Sano mumbled, "I just have to do something, anything."

"Round up your men, take a break and grieve. We've got things to do afterwards," I sighed and pushed her towards her men.

Turning back towards Ishihara, the two of us walked towards the other end of the room where the doors were still intact and closed. A sneeze shook the room as I sniffled from the wet clothes. I could feel a cold start to creep in after nights of sleeplessness and constant vigilance were taking its toll on my body. We were still humans after all. Okuda rubbed the bridge of his nose as he approached the two of us. Small cuts and scrapes had still red trails of blood on his exposed forearms and neck. Parts of his trousers were torn, most likely from the rocks and wood littering the interior and exterior of the keep. Ishihara sniffled as he reached into his admin pouch and pulled out a crumpled black box. With a few smacks of his hand, he pulled out a crooked cigarette, squeezed the filter and placed it between his lips. He pulled out his Zippo lighter and set the whitish methanol stick a blaze before taking a long draw.

"I had a bad feeling about these wet behind the ear boot camp graduates," exhaled Ishihara, smoke shooting out of his nostrils.

"You were the same yourself two years ago," Okuda grumbled back.

"Difference is the training I received with you guys. But still, those year and a half didn't prepare for any of…" there was a pause as Ishihara took another draw and exhaled, "…this."

"That's the problem. Most of them don't even have actual combat experience," I growled, "apart from us and a few squads that even got to execute operations with the United States, the vets of the JIRSG are the only ones who even have credible experience and even then, those were limited. You see what actual combat did to Kenji."

"Who's this Kenji again?" Ishihara asked, Ikeda joined the small circle of three as he ripped off his black medical gloves.

"Wingman from my days as a fighter pilot. Lively guy, always in a good mood and I never thought he would break," I sighed.

"His life probably flashed in front of his eyes making him think of all the things he has to lose before a vision of his impending death by crashing into a boulder or a tower of the keep. To say the least, he crumbled under pressure," Ikeda replied and threw his bloodied gloves into his dump pouch.

The four of us glanced back at the mourning squad. Sergeant Sano was now consoling her men, her arms wrapped around their shoulders. While the squad continued to come to terms with their friend's death, we checked over our equipment. Ammunition was tallied, batteries checked and our support kept up to speed for our final push. If push came to shove everything would be thrown at the keep if we failed. Uphold the mission – that was our duty. Artillery would rain down high explosive shells, incoming fighters would drop brimstone and the tanks would reduce the masonry with their multi-purpose obstacle reduction rounds on the keep. While we were mere mortals and men, the Berserker was anything but.

"Your five minutes are up. If you still don't feel like fighting, get your men to get both your friends out," I ordered.

"No, we're coming," Sergeant Sano replied, the usual fiery dominance replaced with a cold reply.

"Ditto," sniffled one of the soldiers under her command.

"Mura, Konda, you two get Ide up on his feet. Date, Kurata, you get Araki down and safely into the back of a medical transport. Watase, you're with me," Sano swiftly ordered without hesitation.

"But Sergeant –" one of her soldiers spoke up just to be cut off by her.

"That wasn't a suggestion, that was an order Date. I assure you, I'll make it up to both Araki and Ide," Sano replied almost in a growl.

"You know we have to at least try to take him in alive, right?" I asked as the female Sergeant shot me an icy stare.

I was not about to mess with a mother bear after one of her cubs was badly injured and another one killed.

"Check your gear. Recheck it and shut your mouths, you listen us and us only. No more heroics or stupidity. No one else needs to lose their lives, understood?" Okuda's lecture bordered on scolding to which Sano nodded.

Watase was less receptive, his lips pressing together in a thin line as a growl emanated from his dirt covered throat.

"Do try and keep up this time," Ishihara breathed, squeezing the filter of his cigarette and flicking it onto the ground.

Sparks flew from cancer stick, dancing on the cold stone for a few seconds before disappearing from existence. He stomped down on the dimly burning cigarette to extinguish the flame. Watase's eyes followed the cigarette. Blood shot with large bags under his eyes, he gulped as we reached up to pull down our night vision goggle. Stacking up on the door with Ishihara back on point, I placed my hand on Ishihara's shoulder with my rifle pointed upwards. The wet balaclava made it difficult to breathe through. A mixture of moisture and bitter fabric clung to my nose and mouth as I slapped the point man on the shoulder. We exploded through the other side of the dining hall just to be met with a similar corridor and furniture. While the furniture was still somewhat intact in the hall we came in through, everything was in splinters and pieces on the other side. Trails of blood were smeared on the walls, floors and ceiling. Dripping from above splashed against my helmet with a faint splish.

"What in the world..." murmured Watase with disgusted awe.

"Eyes forward. Focus," Okuda reminded him as I felt the hand on my shoulder squeeze with renewed vigor.

"Yeah, yeah…right, focus. This isn't creepy at all…nope," Watase whispered to himself just behind my right ear.

Ishihara's weapon swept left and right in a slow almost mechanical motion. His laser aiming beam was bright in the night vision goggle. The brilliant green beam had a swirling mist of dust circling its entire length. I could feel my rubber soled boots slip slightly with each step. Straps squeezed down on my shoulders, chaffing against my already raw skin with each step. Ishihara came to an abrupt stop after a few moments of cautious walking. His left hand reached out and drew a small square in the air. Pausing for a moment, I glanced back to see Watase's eyes wandering the corridor. I shook my head and patted Ishihara on the shoulder. My hands moved from his shoulder to grip the grenade launcher as Ishihara moved to the other side of what seemed to be a large door at the end of the hall.

I raised my left hand, curling it into a fist and smacking my helmet.

"Stack up," Okuda murmured.

Watase's vice like grip disappeared as I shouldered my rifle and saw Ikeda and Sano swiftly moving over behind Ishihara. Ishihara's left hand came up with three fingers as he started the countdown. My heart remained steady knowing that the staircase leading up was going to be empty, yet a small corner in my mind understood that there was still a slim chance of there being a rogue or bandit hiding in wait, just biding their time until we opened the door to ambush us. As his fingers curled into a fist, Ishihara yanked open the heavy wooden door. Inside, what usually was dark turned a bright green in my night vision goggle. Toasty air bellowed outwards from the empty staircase littered with rotting corpses. Most of the corpses were filled with maggots with their skin leathery sticking to their bones. Muscle was still there for the insects to feast on but all the blood had been drained making them look like mummified bodies left to die where they stood. Reddened liquid appeared like darkened water all across the stairs, glistening as danced hypnotically like a small stream against gravity. The familiar shape of a boonie hat along with the tri-colored camouflage made my heart sink as a pungent odor snuck past the wet balaclava. For once I was glad to have the water soaked fabric filtering out what little it could.

"That's…a lot of blood," breathed Ishihara.

"Must be where he gets his invincibility from," Ikeda sighed and gestured towards the steps of the stairs, "the blood's flowing _upwards._ "

"Urgh…" gagged Watase from behind us.

"I'll take point," Ikeda offered as I gave him a curt nod.

A splash of pungent liquid was clearly heard in the pitter-patter of the easing drizzle still outside. In the night vision monocular, I could see Ikeda's face contort in a scowl momentarily. He stepped forward and pulled on his blue hand knitted scarf wrapped around his neck up towards his balaclava. Splendid, first it was magicians who controlled blood then it was a blood fueled warrior who knew no fear and knew no pain and now it was a staircase filled with blood that flowed upwards what sort of crazy magic mumbo-jumbo was next? I'd come to find out quickly that the strange and the magical was never in short supply during my first tour in the Special Region. We'd rapidly ascend the stairs after deeming there was nothing but rotting bodies and a whole lot of blood that seemed to be rising from the cracks in the stone, dripping from the ceiling and out from all the cracks in the staircase.

I'd gently pushed Watase to the front, just behind Ikeda and Ishihara. Well to be honest, it was more than a gently push, it was a rough shove. I watched as the young soldier twitched from all the sounds in the narrow walkway. Drops of thick soupy liquid splattered onto his body armor, eeking a small gasp from Watase. He froze momentarily to whip his weapon around towards the ceiling. A bright flash of light washed out my night vision system and blinded by night adjusted right eye. I swore I heard the easy-going Okuda getting frustrated and angry with the inexperienced soldier. Seconds would pass as I slowly opened up my eyes to see Watase on the steps. He was on the floor, pushing himself to the side of the narrow corridor. My eyes followed his and looked up. There was a body just like the others. A rag covered the still pale body that was less developed than the rest.

I heard Watase retching out his dinner from behind me.

"Gods," breathed Okuda, "it's just a child."

I could see that the young boy was long dead but his lips were still quivering from the process. Eyelids fluttered from the torture while lucid pupils darted around the once empty staircase in helplessness. Every so often you'd see a finger or a limb twitch against the web of reddened webs that held him in place unlike the elf we found down below. I could hear a disapproving grunt from Okuda. This was the last straw as the Master Sergeant grabbed Watase's collar and threw him down the stairs.

"You're done. Go back to your squad soldier. We don't have the time to wait for you and your antics," Okuda growled, he was angry and you don't ever make the Master Sergeant angry.

"I'm okay. I'm fine -," Watase grumbled as he tried to get back up on his feet.

"That wasn't a suggestion, Private! Get your sorry ass out of here!" Okuda screamed, his booming voice only being amplified by the tight corridor.

That shut him up and made him freeze on the spot.

"You going to quake Sergeant?" Okuda asked Sano, his face just a few inches from Sano's.

Okuda was in full-on special forces instructor mode. He knew that time was running out and we weren't going to have a second chance if the target decided to make a run for it. Seconds decided if the mission was a success or a failure. To make matters worse, we were already far behind the timetable after the two regulars were killed in action after acting recklessly. We might be rock stars but even rock stars can't hold back an audience fueled by adrenaline and had the misguided feeling of invincibility. Who wouldn't be while holding a gun fighting the other guy holds a sharpened metal ingot that's been sharpened into a blade?

"No," breathed Sano, "I won't, Master Sergeant."

I saw conviction in her eyes, a drive that was not going to go away easily.

"Good," he nodded, satisfied.

"You done yet?" Ikeda said with an annoyed sigh.

A grunt answered Ikeda's question as we resumed out climb up towards the top. The stairs wound up twice or thrice I couldn't remember. But I all remembered was the decreasing amount of rotting bodies and the increase in blood. By the time we got close to the top of the stairs, the blood was about ankle height and it soaked into just about everything. My socks and boots were heavy with liquid flowing in reverse and the closer we got the more blood pooled up. Each one of us fell at least once from the slicked steps but luckily none of us ever rolled backwards down the winding staircase. There was red everywhere, on our uniforms, on our plate and even a part of my weapon was dunked in the disturbingly still fresh river of flood. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, we were greeted to howling winds and a partially caved in roof. I had to grab on to the side of the door in an attempt to steady myself from the quickening stream.

The sounds of battle became much clearer with the open roof and the intermittent comms disrupting from the other units were now crystal clear.

"Check fire! Watch out for the Imperials, make sure you don't hit them!" screamed one of the leaders the distinct sounds of rounds popping off loud in my headset.

"Delta Six, Raiden Actual! We've secured most of the inner courtyard! Friendly units report enemies surrendering or fleeing!" another report crackled in my ears.

"Sawada," came the soft but clear transmission in my right ear.

"Go."

"Movement at the top. Target has gotten up and is currently moving towards you, be advised," murmured the marksman as I squeezed the transmit switch twice to zipper my mic.

I turned towards the squad and kept my hand on the wide-open door frame, "Ikeda, stack right with Ishihara and Okuda. Sano, you come with me. Bang and clear, make sure you take non-lethal shots if the target continues to struggle."

There was a nod from the team as I pushed up my night vision goggles.

"I know you are there."

It was a booming voice, deep and gravely like sandpaper. A dull thud shook the stones and rippled the stream we were standing in. I felt my stomach squirm with butterflies fluttering weakly. The urge to run and hide sent chills up my spine as my eyes locked with Ikeda's. What once was a composed and cool soldier was now scanning around the room with a paranoid tendency. I could see the grip on his rifle switch between tense and slack, it was a sign of indecisiveness. Sweat started to dribble down underneath both of our faces. Each drop felt like a sea of water. I felt like I was sweating bullets enough to fill an entire bucket. My breathing quickened without thinking. That same face filled my thoughts, immobilizing me.

"Anderson," a voice snapped me out of my trance, "Sawada, target's stopped just a few meters from the door, please advise."

I opened my mouth to answer but realize that it was dry and managed to croak out a reply, "hold fire until we engage. R-r-repeat the order."

There was a pause.

"You okay down there? I've never heard you stutter," Sawada murmured back, concerned.

"Just follow my orders Sawada," I barked.

Hyperventilating, I dropped down to a knee and forced myself to breathe.

"Get comfortable with being uncomfortable," I wheezed, chanting it like a prayer, "get comfortable with being uncomfortable…"

A shuddering breath escaped from Okuda. I watched the older man struggling to control whatever this feeling was. It was all hard for us, we'd never experienced fear on demand. That's what it felt like. We'd regain our composure just enough to keep functioning. Training ingrained far deeper inside kicked in to move our bodies. I could see Sano subconsciously hurling her dinner onto the stream in front of her. Bits of green, white, yellow and orange floated upwards and around our feet as I fought to raise my rifle. My foot felt like they had been enclosed in bricks of cement. It was a fight just to move my own feet forward. I did this while daggers of searing hot pain pushed into my skull, fighting the urge to shut down or run for the hills.

As I stepped out from the door way, I felt the air inside my lungs just escape like a sledgehammer hitting me square in the chest. There was no force of impact but there was a strange pressure just squeezing me. I was drowning in a sea so deep yet my feet were planted on solid stone. There it was, standing and hulking over me like a statue of muscle. An aura of fear exuded from its body like a pulsing tidal wave with each wave hitting me forcing my body to shut down. The champion was an apt name. Nothing except for a fur coat covered his bare torso while muscled arms lifted the axe the size of two men with ease. He looked like a man who'd had one too many steroid injections, his muscles bulging out almost ripping through his skin.

"Impressive," laughed the hulking man, each throaty laugh physically slamming into my body like a gust of howling wind, "I'd imagine men as weak as you holding metal fire sticks would cave in from fear much like the others that have ventured his far west."

My mind flashed back to the first few recon teams that ventured this far west surveying and drawing maps up for the area. Only two of many teams deployed went missing in action. None of their vehicles were ever found nor were their bodies. The incident happened just a few weeks, only mere months after the empire had crowned Empress Pina as their new leader. A burst of anger shot throughout my body, overriding the pressure and fear that partially immobilized me. I raised my rifle and squeezed off an entire clip of fully automatic fire. The weapon kicked hard against my shoulder. Armor piercing rounds exited the barrel, slamming into the body of the champion. Smoke rose from the now red hot barrel and dimly red suppressor.

I was panting hard.

"Heh heh," chuckled the warrior as he glanced down at the terrifyingly fast healing wounds on his chest, "now you were the true warrior of Japan! I'll make sure your empire fears the wrath of Septimius Arrius Vrialus the Champion of –"

 _Ziiippp! Crack! Bang!_

A flash of light cracking stone pillars exploded in a bright flash of orange against Septimius's horned helmeted head. Another sparked against his bare upper body. The flash lasted for just a few split seconds before disappearing just as fast as it happened. Septimius's horned helmet had cracked, shattering most of the metal and burying it deep into the man's face along with the Mark 211's copper jacketing. One fleshy and bony hole was exposed in the left side of his face with a popped eyeball drooping out of its socket only to be held in place by its mostly torn optic nerve. The wound the torso of the Champion was no small one either. A baseball sized hole with twitching muscles was drilled out by the giant round. The resulting explosion had knocked his axe out of the window through sheer luck. But the kicker was, it didn't penetrate deeper than the deepest layer of muscle.

Vrialus was essentially a walking tank.

His still intact eye glanced up before he keeled over and slammed into the ground with a loud thud.

"That shut him up," Sawada grumbled.

A raspy voice added from behind me, "sheesh, if an M107 was all it took why didn't we carry those things earlier?"

Okuda's fiery temper was gone. Instead of the fire, a wave of relief washed over us as the rest of my squad and Sergeant Sano barreled into the small reception area before the giant hall where the lord sat. The energy was sucked out of me. My legs felt like noodles, the tens of kilograms I wore and carry on my body making me crumple into the ground. A groan escaped from my parched lips. I sucked on the tube carrying precious water from my hydration carrier staring at the strange collection of stars above the keep. They were beautiful jewels among a black cloth spanning the entire planet, sparkling with vibrant flashes through pockets of darkness behind the dissipating thunderstorm clouds.

"I thought I told you we needed him alive," I panted, breathless from the encounter.

"Or if it's too hard…dead," chuckled Sawada, "I did exactly as you said."

Truth was we were ordered to bring him in alive, had I brought the Champion in I doubted anyone would survive the trip back to Alnus Hill much less get anything out of him.

"Captain," Sano called as I continued to stare at the skies, "Anderson!"

"Hmm?" I grunted.

 _Crinkle._

There was the crinkling of cloth and metal chains from behind me.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I growled in English.

I rolled around to see the stream of blood we laid in quicken and forming strings of red as it was being drawn into the body of the former dead Septimius. The red liquid lifted the corpse up sealing up his grotesques wounds. Muscles were slowly being threaded anew and skin regenerating from scratch as if he was being born all over again. I watched his chest rise and fall with life. This guy was being brought back to life. I was starting question all that I knew from Earth, confused at how this could even happen. Only one word came to mind – magic.

"Light him up!" I croaked, "if he bleeds, we'll drain him of all the blood he has in this keep!"

Shouldering the SCAR, I slapped the magazine a fresh magazine in and held down the trigger. The weapon jumped around far less this time around. Instead of being weak and distracted from the fear exuding from the hulking body, this time I was able to control the weapon. Loud cracks from suppressed rifles exploded behind me as the team threw down a wall of lead into the regenerating body. I came to the realization that standard bullets weren't going to cut it. The bullets we fired bounced harmlessly off his skin, some penetrating just only a few centimeters before stopping and being pushed out by the muscles behind it. It felt like we were fighting the Terminator. Blood continued to pulse around the bullet wounds, healing them up far faster than we could fire into him. It did nothing to disable him and it was a little more than a nuisance to him if not nothing at all.

"Frag out!" I heard a yell from behind me, as a greenish gleaming baseball flying past my head.

"Sawada, slap him again!" I added as my rifle clicked empty.

"On the way!" came the loud reply from the team sniper.

There was no time to shove my empty magazine back into my pouch. I simply ejected the empty metal box and slammed a fresh one in. A loud zip struck Septimius again, this time detonating in a brilliant flash over his left arm. The explosion had punched the round straight through the limb. Septimius was brought down to his knees as a smoldering and gaping hole was all that was left of the fifty-caliber bullet. Blood fell like a waterfall of red, the tinkling of metal against stone could be heard far behind him in the muffled sound of gunfire in my ears. Fleshy strands of burn muscle and skin held his arm together like dough stretched too far. Anymore movement and his arm would just tear apart. The action seemed to continue without pause as a bang shook the already weakened top floor of the keep. A flash of yellow accompanied an instantly spawning cloud of smoke. Thousands of hot shards of metal filled the air, with a fleshy plop I could hear the shredded arm slam into the floor before bubbling into the same river of blood that was regenerating him. The second round came shortly after, slamming into the chest of the bent over frame.

"Raiden, Tanuki, we are an SF team on FAC, artillery support and rear security. Reporting incoming reinforcements from the northern and southern sides of the lake. Estimated fifteen mikes until they arrive at the chokepoint. Be advised," I heard Muto's calm and collected voice on comms.

"Ikeda, Ishihara! Get those PDMs deployed, that should slow him down a bit!" I screamed, resuming my fully automatic suppressive fire.

"We can't keep this up! I'm going to call in the big guns, stand by," Okuda yelled from behind me.

As Okuda began his flurry of requests to the incoming F-2Bs for close air support, Ikeda and Ishihara pulled out their own satchels in preparation to slow down the Champion. I was started to grasp at straws. Two thousand years of warfare and here all of our advanced weapons couldn't even defeat a man doped up on blood. All we could do was slow him down until the bigger guns had a clean shot at him. It was time to think outside the box, something we were always good at doing.

"Komori 4, danger close, cleared hot with twenty mike-mike! Give us everything you've got!" My ears perked up at Okuda's screaming.

"PDM deployed!" Ikeda reported.

"Sawada, Akagi! You see anything that moves, whack it with the fifty!" I ordered, two clicks coming from the comms.

The two wedge shapes soared into the air. Landing right next to the slightly twitching frame, the trip wires deployed with a loud bang. Small sharpened nails dug into the stone and Septimius's regenerating body. Blood spurted out impact without much reaction. The familiar and reassuring wail of the F-2B's engine could be heard faintly in the distance. At eight hundred kilometers per hour and increasing in speed, it would be anything but far away in a few seconds. I screamed for the rest of the team to descend down the staircase amidst the gunfire and activity. Wailing from the incoming multi-role fighter became louder and louder with each passing second. As I waved my men and Sergeant Sano into the staircase, I glanced back to check on the hulking frame. Blood oozed around him like a living slime regenerating his body at the same frightening pace even though he was already knocked down twice by four anti-materiel rounds. While I had never faced an actual ancient dragon before, this had to be equally as terrifying if not more so. A single twitch from the red slime covered frame tugged on the highly sensitive M86 grenade's tripwire. Two explosions sent me flying back into the blood covered staircase. The wind was knocked out of my lungs. Blurred vision clouded my eyes.

 _Buuurrrrp!_

Everything trembled underneath me. Stone fell from the ceiling. Bodies were shaken and tossed out of their bloodied webs, hitting the stone with a feeble crack. All they had left was skin and bones. I could feel my body slide down the blood slicked stairs. The shaking was so terrible that even my heavy body lifted off the steps even though it was only a few centimeters, I was still lifted off the ground. At one point, I tumbled head over heels and for a moment I was glad I had my helmet on and not my boonie hat. The shaking continued for a few moments before subsiding. Stone struck stone with a cloud crunch as the bricks fell far after the shaking had stopped. My eyes slowly focused to the sight of a dust filled corridor. Burning filled my lungs from all the dust I was inhaling through my balaclava. Coughing shook my exhausted, bruised and battered body. Three decades and a half, I knew that the beating my body had taken would eventually come back to bite me in the ass one day.

Today was one of those days.

I was lying down in a river of blood, face half submerged in the liquid and the other coughing from the cloud of dust.

Despite all that, I just didn't want to get up.

It was warm…so comfortably warm.

"Anderson!" coughed a gruff voice interrupting my peaceful nap in the warm stream of blood.

I groaned, forcing myself back to reality, "what…?"

"Oh thank god, I thought you were dead when I saw your body tumbling down the stairs," breathed Okuda as I sighed, the river of red bubbling from the exhaled breath.

"Okami! SITREP, what's going on?! I just saw that entire floor just collapse in on itself!" I heard Kengun screaming in my ear.

I switched off the radio with an exasperated sigh.

"My ear's already damaged enough from all the gun fire and the bombs," I grumbled.

Hands pushed against warm fluid. My legs screamed in protest as I stood up with my aching body. Everything was just sore. Going up the steps, I approached what was left of the throne room. The roof had caved in from the short burst of the passing aircraft. Stone flooring had crumbled in after the support pillars were decimated into small pieces of stone from the twenty millimeter rounds. Only the two ends of the keep were still up along with some of the walls. A pile of rubble was all that was left on the third floor. I hoped that the squad that we had left behind to bring their fallen comrade back to friendly hands was alright. The rumbling wail of the Viper Zeros taking up cover far above the clouds sent a wave of relief through me. They would orbit, waiting a battle damage assessment from the ground controllers before either reengaging or fly back towards their designated waiting waypoint. I made a mental note to buy the men and women some food from inside the capital as a thank you for covering out backs.

"At least he's gone for good this time," sighed Okuda as I nodded.

Numbness tickled my skin with electric fire. Sopping wet from the blood with howling winds battering my heavy uniform, I was sure that the follow day I would come down with a cold. My waist, shoulders, arms and knees were all chaffed raw from straps holding the equipment on me. My stomach grumbled for food. The team had eaten from rations the past week and while it was tolerable, fresh food was preferable. A hot meal after an operation always hit the spot. With a sigh, I turned around to walk down the steps. That is until I heard the shifting of rocks far below.

"No way," I muttered under my breath and turned around to look, "no fucking way."

Stones shifted from movement. Warmness quickly followed around my legs as my eyes glanced down to see a steady stream of water. Like a reddened waterfall that was more liken to a gooey Fruit Rollup. It followed swiftly and quickly into the stones separating into the cracks. I could feel the frostbite creep into my toes as the unbelievably plentiful stream ran empty. The stone beneath my boots were polished until it shined even in the darkness from the constant ebb and flow of the life-force. But the blood did not stop, another stream quickly joined from the entrance of the dining hall we were just in.

My heart sank as a cry sliced through the rumbling sky, "Araki!"

"You're kidding…" Okuda growled with a frustration.

If this was what the power of magic could do, we were in for a rough ride in this world unless we find a solution.

"I may have a solution Captain," Ikeda said as he ascended the steps, "you know my father's bottle of blood thinners I carry around as a good luck charm? I think we can use it to thin the blood enough so his regeneration properties are either weakened or completely nullified."

"Then we can use the only thing we know that works against it – the thermite grenades," I continued Ikeda's train of thought as he nodded in agreement.

"Ishihara, you help Ikeda! Okuda, Sano, you're with me!" I yelled, undoing the two latches securing the grenade launcher to the underside of rifle and tossed it to Ikeda, "you use that to deliver the thinners!"

The three of us swiftly descended down the stairwell. With boots still slippery from both water and blood, each foot was placed cautiously in front of the other until we busted out into third floor. The sight shook Sano to the very bones. I could see her frozen with shock and shaking with anger. Araki's body was suspended in mid-air under the control of what I could only explain to be was magic. The red blood that he was bleeding since the charge of the warrior was being pulled from his body like a spare blood bag. It was eerie how easily a dead body turned into a tomato juice box for the magic augmented champion.

My teeth clenched in pure fury, no one was going to desecrate a fallen soldier and get away with it.

"Sawada, Akagi, reengage HVT! Dump all you have into this guy!" I screamed into the comms.

"We're red Kistune!" Sawada yelled back, red meant they had absolutely no shot.

"You make a hole then! Between the second and third windows, you fill that area with fifty cal now!"

A zippered mic was their reply as I squeezed the trigger. The SCAR-H ripped through thirty rounds in a matter of a few seconds. Okuda and Sano's squad opened fire while Sano herself was still in shock. Hot rounds struck the skin of the regenerating barbarian without any effect. They bounced off, tinkling on the floor with smoke still rising from the metal projectiles. Frustrated, I dumped my magazine as soon as my rifle clicked empty and slammed a fresh one in. Seconds would soon pass as Araki's body was drained of all blood. Septimius was bundle of broken bones poking out of his impregnable skin. Muscle strains hung out like pieces of loose wire while half of his skull's yellowish white bone was barely covered by charred skin. A pulsing pink of brain matter poked through very slightly near his burnt temple yet he bled no blood. His face was contorted in what I could only be described as rage and pain.

 _Thud! Thud! Crack!_

Volleys of heavy fifty caliber rounds slammed into hardened rocks, eventually knocking stones from the medieval wall. Whizzing from a rocket motor made me stop firing. Through the small baseball-sized hole, I could hear the whistling wind and the approaching whistle of a slow-moving missile. The sniper fire continued until the stones were knocked out within seconds into a large porthole just mere moments before I saw the fast-moving rocket itself. I couldn't mistake the large cylindrical rocket the size of a man torso for anything else. It came from a Type 01 LMAT, an anti-tank missile. The rocket struck the hole and exploded in a brilliant spark of orange. Time slowed as a jet of blinding blue shot out from shot out porthole, spraying the revived Champion in a hot bath of plasma. A plume of black extended from behind the dissipating jet to consume Septimius. He was engulfed by a darkened cloud as the second charge detonated sending splinters from the wooden furniture flying everywhere including towards us. My hands moved up to cover my lower face to feel a thousand needles digging into my skin. A haze of thick undisturbed dust was thrown up from floor from the explosion, obscuring my vision.

 _Thunk!_

A spinning blur pierced the darkened plume and hazy dust, carving a stream of expanding air. Metal impacted solid flesh with a dull thud before another explosion split the plume into half. Between the two dispersing clouds of black was the charred and burned body of the barbarian. I watched him collapse onto his knees, spots of deep red and charred black across his entire body. The metal chain he wore were fused into one solid sheet that broke upon movement. He was defeated, resigning from battle.

But I wasn't sure.

"Thermite!" I yelled, plucking the red canister from my pack.

This had better work because this was the last thermite grenade I had on me.

"Thermite!" Okuda warned, he wasn't taking a chance either.

Both of the cylinders landed on the stone floor with a loud tinkling. There was a pause. Silence filled the void before a loud hiss filled the clearing dust with a reddened hue. Septimius's hulking frame silhouette the fog with an ominous outline. His previously giant presence now slowly shrunk into the stone ground. I stepped into the decimated dining hall and found that my boots splashed against burnt blood and flesh. As musky clouds of suffocating smoke floated by me, my eyes finally were face to face with the hardest humanoid I had ever tried to kill. Back on Earth, there was a monotony to things. You can't kill a person? Bring a bigger gun. Tank in your way? Plastic explosives or call in air support. This was a whole new ball game that even Special Forces weren't prepared for. Sure, we killed a blood magic fueled barbarian, but what happens when we came up against something that we weren't able to kill like a god?

Those thoughts were pushed towards the back of my head as I glanced down at the melting warrior.

"Hahaha," echoed the deep unnatural bass of Septimius through my entire body, "finally I have been bested. How I have longed the sweet release of death."

"Where's the Prince?" I asked unemphatically.

"I know not Champion of the Jay-Ess-Dee-Eff," he had trouble pronouncing the words as the fire slowly crept up towards his chest, "maybe you want to ask that concubine bunny bitch that turned me and my men into this…abomination. Were it not for you, I'd still be home with my wife and children. They would still be alive. Instead they were forced to commit suicide when I failed to defend the Prince when your warriors came from the sky."

I let him continue to talk as the flames eventually danced their way up. Rain started to drizzle back down from the now open roof despite the clearing clouds. Moonlight showed through the cover in spots of light illuminating the stone flooring before me. The flames flickered but didn't die out even with the added moisture. I bent down, snatching his helmet before the fire engulfed him and burned whatever was left of him. Nothing could survive five thousand degrees centigrade. All that remained was a blackish puddle of blood, whitish ash and grey from the metal on his body.

Septimius was no more.

My knees gave out.

Collapsing on the floor, I was panting hard from exhaustion. I was pretty sure I was bleeding in more places than I could count and the metallic stench of blood still lingered on the inside of balaclava. The stiff fabric was starting to become flexible again from the rain water. Rolling over, I grumbled as I pushed myself back up to my feet and hobbled over towards Sano's squad. Thankfully it was only Araki who was used as a battery. Ide was already out of the tower with half of the squad for medical treatment. It would become another burden for Sergeant Sano to bear. Her mind was already starting to crack under failures she had no control over. Sano cradled Araki in her arms, her subordinates helping her left the pruned lifeless corpse up and off the ground. Their boots tapped against the stone with a loud echo, heavy from their comrade's death.

I felt like I was witnessing a member of my team being carried away in their casket.

No that won't happen.

Ishihara and Ikeda had descended from the ruined third floor. Their uniforms were stained with blood, sweat and dirt. Exhaustion was written all over their faces as each one of us operated on whatever willpower we had left to stand. My legs were shaking and numb. Arms sore with pulses of pain from each motion. And my feet were just raw. It felt like I had rubbed what little skin I had left off of the underside.

"It's finally over huh?" Ishihara sighed, pulling a nearly empty box of cigarettes.

"Yeah…give me one," I grunted as the younger man flicked at the bottom to push up a crooked stick.

"Smoking now Captain? Isn't it a bit too late?" Ishihara chuckled.

"Nah, I just need something to suck on. Today was a rough day," I groaned and placed the cigarette on my lips, "wish I remembered to bring my cinnamon sticks."

"War trophy, Anderson?" Okuda murmured as he pulled off his helmet to reveal a large dried cut on the right of his hairline.

"It's just something to give Kengun. Proof that this guy is truly dead. At least we came all the way here to confirm what we already know," I growled and tossed the horned helmet to Okuda, "at least the JSDF will have a brand-new outpost in the Min region."

"The place is defensible and the courtyards are large enough for the CH-47s to land. The lake and river's large enough to support frigate sized ships. The JSDF would be stupid not to establish some sort of base here," Ikeda commented, "it would also be a great location to keep an eye on the restless neighbors to the west."

"Whatever, I just pull the trigger. I could care less about this strategic stuff. What I would kill for an actual meal instead of this MRE crap right now…," I grumbled and started to walk towards the exit.

I pulled off my helmet and balaclava as we exited the keep. Rubbing my buzzcut hair, I felt sweat spraying out from the short hair. Cool drops of water seared burning hot skin. Refreshing streaks of water showered my face. I could feel the stress and fatigue wash away for the moment before the bangs and booms of battle brought me back to reality. There was still a battle going on. It might not be here, but it was still a couple hundred meters away. I could see the small dots of fire from torches bobbing hypnotically in the valley through the blown open gate. Horsemen pushed at the metal machines just to be obliterated by metal shells traveling at thrice the speed of sound. The tanks, IFVs, APCs and infantry made little work of the horses and primitive armor. What they lacked in firepower, they made up for in courage and numbers. The eastern forces would retreat after knowing there was no way to breach a wall of flying bullets.

Colonel Kengun was visibly pissed.

The four of us walked towards him with the helmet in hand. Okuda gave the furious Colonel the helmet as proof of Septimius's death but that didn't quell his fury.

"I told you to capture him alive!" Kengun screamed in my ear, "what am I supposed to do with a puddle of blood? Tell me Captain!"

I sighed and shoved a boonie hat on my head, "before he died he confirmed that only the 'concubine bunny bitch', those were his words, knew where Zorzal is. And if DIH (Defense Intelligence Headquarters) Intel is right, she's…where is she again?"

"The mountain range of ice and snow, sir," Okuda mused with a humble yet coy smile.

"Right, the mountain range of ice and snow."

That only seemed to make Colonel Kengun even angrier, "omae (you!), what about the terrorist cells in Sadera?"

"If he was coordinating it, he's dead now. But it seems he's only capable of fighting. His two other lieutenants are in the wind. They _knew_ we were coming Colonel. Maybe if you didn't pick up a baggage of, I don't know, three hundred imperials we would have moved a little bit faster. But who knows, I'm just a trigger pulling grunt."

"There's a helicopter coming to pick you up on General Hazama's orders. If it were me I'd let all nine of you damned cowboys walk home! Now get out of my sight!" Colonel Kengun bellowed as I lazily saluted the task force commander and casually sauntered out.

"I'd bet we'd reach Alnus faster than he would in his limousine," snickered Okuda.

"He's alright, guy's probably just stressed out now that he has to figure out the logistics of getting back and sorting out all the POWs," I sighed, rolling the cigarette between my lips.

Inside the courtyard, prisoners of war were rounded up in one area of the keep's inner walls with Japanese soldiers and Imperial footman constantly keep an eye on them. All of them were stripped of their weapons. A pile of swords, halberds and other melee armaments were gathered at the center of the keep under the watchful eye of two heavily armed IFVs belonging to headquarters company. The slaves were kept separate from the bandits for their own safety. Many were being treated by army medics while others had the attention of the infantry. MREs were handed out to the malnourished while the children were kept busy by the other soldiers. Despite the ongoing battle raging just outside, children were laughing as the soldiers played with them and handed out candy. Some received BDU jackets from the soldiers to protect their barely clothed and bruised bodies from the falling rain.

As we sat waiting for the helicopter transport to arrive, I watched the kids learning one of the clapping hand game from a soldier. Both of their faces had smiles plastered onto them while bangs lit up the sky with an orange glow and explosives shook the earth. I guess this was one thing the JSDF was good at, comforting people. Years of disaster operations both inside and outside the country had made the soldiers adept at raising morale even in dark times. Mimi, Moon and Sanada joined us just a few minutes later. Sanada took on the role of big brother as he distracted the two adolescent cat folk with his smartphone. The sounds of yays, whizzes and digitalized victory music sprang from the small electronic device. Akagi and Sawada made their way towards us with most of our equipment strapped onto their backs. Like pack mules, everything essential was contained in large packs dwarfing the two men. Everything else would be transported home by Tanuki since they were now the new owner of our Land Cruisers. Cael and Cora decided to come back with us, the latter informing her people that resided in Min Lake beforehand. Kazuki also appeared from the medic's APC with his elven companion.

I sighed with worry.

The squad had inflated from just ten soldiers into a cobbled squad of twenty.

I hoped they sent the fat lady instead of the Blackhawk. And the fat lady did they send. The sounds of twin rotor blades cut through the dying battle an hour later with its steady and rhythmic thumping. Ten thousand horse power and longer than a basketball court, the CH-47JA Chinook did a slow but speedy semi-circle as it checked the area before coming in to land. A series of flickering red and green blinked brightly in the darkness. The roaring of the twin engines became thunderous as the big bird got closer. The baguette pitched up to flare for landing. Its ramp lowered barely just missing the high walls of the keep. Powerful rotors blew the drizzling rain into dart-like walls of stinging liquid. Bits of loose mud were sent flying into the surrounding area. Two-wheeled bogies slammed into the mud from the heavy weight. With more than half off its landing gear in thick mud, two of the crewmen came sprinting out the rear ramp of the helicopter. One stopped just left of the ramp while the other ran towards us.

"Captain Anderson?!" he asked, voice barely audible over the deafening chopping of the Chinook.

"How'd you know it was me?!" I yelled back a reply, grabbing my gear.

"General Hazama said to look for a special snowflake!" grinned the crewmen as he guided us at an acute angle towards the helicopter, "he wants a personal debrief so we're going straight back to Alnus! Then he's ordered me to send you back to the Jade Palace for one last night to report your change of station before you leave for your one week shore leave to Japan!"

It's not like we needed guiding but the other passengers not used to the aircraft would be fried by the blazing hot exhaust.

The special region passengers were both shocked in awe from the large aircraft. Their mouths were agape as they approached the transport helicopter. Sanada and Ishihara had relinquished both their sound dampening headsets for Mimi and Moon. Their sensitive ears meant they were in much more pain than the soldiers. And after years of deafening gunfire, both the two men's hearing had been degraded somewhat. Some of the slaves were bowing down to the CH-47 funnily enough.

"How long's it going to take?" I asked.

"Four hours there about. We'll have to stop in between at an outpost to refuel. We should arrive in time for the General's breakfast so you can deliver the news to him," laughed the crewman as I pulled my headset into the helicopter's intercom system, "what's up with the extra pax (passengers)?"

"They're a couple of slaves we decided to take under our wing, another one's an elf that's used in blood magic rituals. Anything more than that I can't tell you, you know, black ops stuff," I joked with a grin, the heavy ramp rising to close with an inaudible buzz.

"Whatever you say Captain," the crewman said from his position at the front of the aircraft and pounded the cockpit's metal covering, "all souls and heroes on board! Let's get it moving gentlemen!"

A change in pitch and the sensation of my stomach being pulled down towards my bottom told me that we were lifting off. My body leaned sideways from the forward pitch and motion of the helicopter. From the front windshield of the aircraft, I watched the muddied ground and stone ground disappear in a quick blur of muddied darkness. I stood up and walked cautiously towards the rear of the metal tube careful of the constant shift as it flew through the air. The ramp was halfway down, enough for the door gunner to peer down from his station. I watched the crewman manning the Sumitomo NTK-62 GPMG scanning the horizon and area below us. From the small slit, I could see the slowly brightening sky. Blots of deep red were starting to appear on the horizon as the dancing dots of torches from the western armies rode northward, away from the keep. They were in full retreat finally realizing that the futile battle would cost them more men that they wanted to sacrifice.

Worn-out, I sat down on the uncomfortable cloth seat and pulled off my equipment. The soaked plate carrier slammed into the deck with a dull squish of liquid. Pruned hands were stripped from drenched combat gloves. The very same hands peeled my combat shirt off of my torso. There was blood everywhere on the fabric with small little holes strewn across the reddened top. I even though that pieces of my skin were stripped underneath the worn fabric. Nonetheless, the shirt would go into the trashcan. No amount of washing would get rid of the holes shrapnel had torn. Blood still speed from some of the wounds around my body but most had stopped. Like me, most of my teammates had stripped down and were either sleeping or lazing around the rear of the CH-47JA with a blanket around them. Our uniform was hung from equipment racks of the helicopter to dry and pinned down by a mixture of tape, pins and fastenings we improvised.

Sleep came easy for us.

After long nights, some with and without sleep, I immediate was knocked out under a thin fleece and thermal blanket to keep me toasty. Even with the loud droning sounds of the Chinook became a hypnotizing melody. Rough turbulence stirred me from a darkness I could not escape. Flashes of past moments lit up the murkiness of my sleep-in ghost-like images. One singular sound played throughout the black veil – the sickening snapping of bone. The darkness turned red, water rushing up from my bare feet. I couldn't more. I couldn't escape. Arms reached out from underneath the rising liquid. There was a death grip holding me in place. My mouth opened to scream, there was no sound only the same snapping sound loud in my mind. I reached out my hand towards something above. The liquid rose past my neck and entered my mouth. A metallic tang filled my mouth as I began to suffocate. Pain exploded from my left leg, shocking me awake.

I was panting…hard.

Thirty minutes out from Alnus, the crewman told me. I pulled on the same uniform drying above the rack. Cold fabric stung against the raw skin. The cloth was damp and stiff from the frigid altitude. As we came in to land, a crowd of soldiers were huddled just outside the helicopter pads. They welcomed us like heroes, cheering and whistling at the successful battle. Only a handful of Japanese soldiers had died during the conflict with more injured the General had told me. Were it not for precise air support and artillery fire, more would have died in the field of battle. The next thing he did was pin the two tabs and a star to my chest after telling me to relinquish my rank tab. I was promoted to a Major after four solid years as a Captain in the Ground Self Defense Force, allowing me to establish a special forces company. Along with the promotion came time off after one month in country.

A week to take a break and visit family.

The new weapon requisitions had arrived with a little extra. Well, maybe a lot extra. Thanks to the old man, not only had the SCAR-Hs arrived, a whole range of other weapons for the squad did as well. AK-400s from Russia fielded in the common 5.45mm rounds and suppressor fitted Sig MCXs in .300 Blackout to name a few. Newly issued camouflage for all types of terrain, plate carriers of all sizes along with helmets. Pop had gotten us equipment enough to field an entire company of soldiers. I picked up the newly order Glock 22 with a note from my father.

Unfolding the paper it read – "I know you already have a sidearm son, but nine mike-mike won't bring down whatever you're up against over there. Here's a big boy pistol from Glock chambered in forty S&W. – Thomas Anderson."

With a chuckle, I tucked the note into my new plate carrier and walked off.

The new passengers I picked up had accommodations made for them. I had picked up my mail and was sifting through it on the flight back towards the jade palace. Among bills and notifications, I was also sent a care package from my mother. Strange how life on the other side of the gate still had a grip on me. Phone bills had to be paid along with a couple of advertisements thrown in to annoy me. It wasn't long before we arrived at the Jade Palace. Only a mere thirty minutes had passed before we were already circling again to land. I threw on a simple olive drab tee over my bare chest and grabbed my small pack. We were only staying for a single day anyway.

Shouldering the small pack in on one shoulder and a gripping the Mark 18 SCAR in the other, I waited to the side of the ramp as the Chinook's wheels gently settled on the rustling grass. There was no fanfare to receive us at the Jade Palace. The knights stood at their posts along with their imperial counterparts carefully watching my haggard squad disembark from the rear of the helicopter. Stinging eyes scanned the crisp evening eyes to find a familiar pair of emerald eyes following my movements. The White Rose was dressed in her evening gown, standing quietly by her squire as I entered the palace. As my team went separate ways, I made a beeline towards the commanding officer's office to hand in the change of post letter. It was a brief and terse exchange. The security guard commander thanked us for our time on post despite the fact that we ducked out often to perform black operations ordered by General Hazama himself.

I quickly retreated back to my own room.

With a sigh, I pushed in the heavy wooden door to reveal the same dark four walled room I had stayed in. I flipped on the light switch and threw the pack onto the bed. Grabbing a glass, I poured the remaining bourbon into the whiskey glass and chugged the bitter liquid. I needed to be at least somewhat tipsy for what I was about to do. I plopped down onto the bed, taking off all my clothing and pulled out a multi-tool from the pack. Metal pliers gripped onto cold metal embedded on the skin of my torso. A pained breath escaped my lips as the glistening metal was yanked from the clotted wound. Blood dribbled from the now open gash. Sure, I could get a medic to do it for me but I preferred it to do it myself. It was my own time to sit in silenced pain, reflecting on the previous operation.

A coping mechanism if you will.

Another pang of pain, metal pliers continued pulling out shards of shrapnel and wooden splinters.

 _Knock, knock._

Knuckles tapped softly against the wood.

I wondered if it was one of the maids with food. It was pretty close to dinner time when we had arrived at the palace. Before opening the door, I took a swab of cotton and drenched it with medical alcohol. Light blue cotton quickly turned a darkened red as I swiped at the opened wounds. Stinging pained exploded from my shoulders, sterilizing the reopened gashes. I stood up to burning sore soles and numbed legs. Even the pained left leg was completely insensitive from overexertion. This was the price of running our bodies so hard. With a grunt, I hobbled over to the door and swung it open. Familiar emerald eyes stared back into mine. Platinum hair smooth like the white silk dress hugging her slim frame shift gracefully as she averted her gaze.

"Hey…you," I said weakly, hiding my pained expression behind a trained smile.

There was awkward pause.

Her eyes fell on my torso littered with cuts and scrapes before glaring back up at me.

"Get back inside," she said with worry, "you haven't even bandaged up your wounds yet."

Warm hands forcefully shoved me back inside. I was surprised at her strength as weakened legs gave from the sudden push. Stumbling back inside, my slash covered back singed against the fresh sheets. Panache grabbed the bandages from the table and started unraveling it before I stopped her. I held up the multi-tool and used the pincers to show her that the metal shards and wooden splinters needed to be taken out first. Panache pulled a chair in front of me, her roman silk gown flowing effortlessly in the stuffy stone room. As she pulled the foreign shards from my body, I dabbed the cuts with alcohol and placed small little bandages over them. We worked in concentrated but awkward silence before Panache decided to break it.

"We need to talk about what happened," she said bluntly as she yanked out another fragment.

"Hrm…"I grunted and chugged another pint of the bitter alcohol, "you don't have to worry whatever happens to you. I promise I'll take responsibility okay?"

"I hope you do," she glared and wrenched out another piece of rotting wood, "but that's not what I'm worried about. If I get pregnant, I mean what will we do?"

"Don't worry about. Just trust everything to me and let me take care of it deal?" I asked her and extended my hand out.

Panache squirmed, her face flushed with rosy red cheeks. Her eyes look towards my hand. Why was she so hesitant? I would realize it later that a handshake meant so much more than just a promise in the Special Region. I furled my eyebrows in confusion from the increasingly long silence. Plasma dripped from an opened wound that was yet to be bandaged while Panache's hands fiddled with the bloodied multi-tool. A sigh escaped my lips as I was about to retract my hand. The White Rose reached out and firmly gripped my callused hands, nearly crushing it in her forceful grasp. The multitool fell onto stone with a loud, echoing clatter. Our eyes met with an electric chill running through my spine. Our hands held onto each other for us a bit too long as our calluses rubbed against each other until they were clammy. Panache's chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing quickened.

I was confounded and puzzled at her reaction to a simple handshake.

"You want to…um, let go of my hand?" I coughed.

"Ah!" Panache squealed, "sorry."

As she finally released her vice-like grip, I stood up to pour myself another lick of whiskey. I placed the glass on the bed and proceeded to finish with the sterilizing and dressing the last cut on the front of my torso. Panache gingerly snatched the pliers from the ground and moved to my side to focus on the larger wounds. As I lifted the glass up to chug Panache spoke, "I'm excited to go see your family tomorrow, General Hazama's given me permission to go see Japan."

The bitter liquid touched my lips before proceeding up and out my nostrils, burning the entire way.

Coughing, I took a few seconds to get the alcohol out of my nose.

"Wait, what?!"


	16. Intermission: 11-1

**Update:** Made corrections to add more information about the simulated kill of an aggressor F-16C.

* * *

Intermission: 11-1

A groan of relief escaped my mouth as numb legs pushed down against the metal flooring. Four hours spent in the early mornings of the limb freezing rooms of Elmendorf Air Force Base. We had spent the last four days flying and familiarizing ourselves with the terrain of Southern Alaska. Numerous flights were made over the breath-taking tree covered mountains and crystal clear lakes. Drinks were exchanged with the tanking crew the previous night as I served both as a translator and bridge between my small team of Japanese pilots and the tanker crew. Pleasantries, funny stories and tales of war were exchanged before were ushered off to bed by our commanding officers. With only a few hours of sleep and a crushing headache from the hangover, we woke up to attend a mandatory safety briefing before being assigned our first stories of the entire exercise. While the 201st Squadron flew the ceremonial fly over as the Japanese representatives, the rest of us from Japan were glancing at our notepads, flat-panel displays to plan our assigned missions. Pilots from the other nations were doing the same to support the scenario the operation planners had thrown at us.

The operation was a large-scale international crisis response operation. Blue Force consisted of coalition nations, a mix of Asian squadrons, European, Israeli and American forces on both the ground and the air while the Red Force were played by the American Aggressor squadrons and ground training units fresh from the battlefields of Afghanistan.

Ground crews were abuzz around the tarmac to get the aircraft ready in a massive elephant walk. An elephant walk meant that there would be a large number of aircraft taxiing towards the runways for takeoff. Men and women drove vehicles with bombs, missiles and ammunition towed to the back. Fuel trucks had their hoses hooked up to the undersides of the aircraft while the crew chiefs waited patiently beside their jets to help the pilots strap in. The musky smell of jet fuel was thick in the morning air in hustle and bustle of loudly roaring vehicles rumbling about on the asphalt. A series of loud whines started to come to life accompanied by an orchestra of pressure relieving bursts and roars from the jet fuel starters of the aircraft on the flight line. Flights of F-22As, F-15Ks, F-15DJs and SU-30 MK2s were starting their engines in preparation to be the first aircraft in the air.

They were the forward tip of the spear – the air superiority fighters.

"Package 0012, Strike, callsign Samurai 13. Primary objectives are the enemy forward operating bases. I miss anything?" Hirata asked walking towards the ladder from her inspection walk as I stretched my back to hear a crack from my spine.

"Nope," I breathed a sigh of relief from a stretched body after hours of sitting, "everything good on the walk around?"

"Yeah, well, other than a few minor adjustments to the paint job everything looks okay," Hirata grunted, climbing up the ladder towards her seat behind me.

"Lieutenant," greeted the crew chief as he climbed up next to me and handed me my helmet bag.

"Yo, how's your morning chief?" I asked, settling into the thinly padded seat.

"Had a bit of coffee with the Italians and the British, interesting bunch. Chatted with the Thais and Koreans before going to the safety briefing for the ground crew then it's out here to the bitter cold to tend to your aircraft Lieutenant. We're being set-up for a busy day," the aged veteran gave me a quick smile as he pulled the harnesses around my body to strap me into the seat, "I have a feeling we're going to be fueling up and rearming your aircraft throughout the entire day and night. Don't forget your night vision now."

"I won't. Sounded like it was fun. Coffee, some chit-chat and then tending to a fighter jet," I laughed, "just your favorite kind of morning, eh chief?"

"Yes sir," he replied before giving me a short salute and sliding down the ladder.

I pulled the helmet snug over my head, flicking on the switches that lit up the entire cockpit of the aircraft with a myriad of yellow and orange warning lights. The comfortingly low buzz of electrical power tickled my ears. Multiple banks of batteries fed power to the power-hungry avionics of the aircraft as I glanced up at the crew chief standing lazily with one of his subordinates, his hat held securely in place by his headphones. He had one eye to me while he was talking and another on his crew. I gave the chief and nod, holding up my left hand. He mirrored the signal as I started the jet fuel starter. A loud whine quickly spooled to life, my left hand pushed the throttle over a small gate to feed fuel to the leisurely turning engine. The four digital displays flickered to life running their built-in tests, power pooling in from the now faster spinning turbine. Smooth scratch covered glass locked me into the aircraft, muffling the loud noise of the engine as I lowered the canopy. My fingers ran along a cloth stitched bag with a white civilian airliner and golden letters on blue fabric hanging from the upper right corner of the three-piece canopy. Nearly everyone if not all the personnel had this personal charm either on their person or on their aircraft. It was the awamori of aviation safety which are believed by air force personnel to protect all pilots and air force personnel from harm.

A small but long digital display just below the HUD flickered on.

With a press of a button, I was tuned to the frequency of the tower and my flight.

"Elmendorf, Devil 1, requesting taxi to runway with Golf," came the quickly spoken words belonging to none other an F-22A Raptor pilot from the 302nd Fighter Squadron famous for their devil squadron patch.

"Devil 1, Elmendorf, taxi approved to 14 via Kilo, Bravo, Alpha."

"Elmendorf, Devil 1, 14 via Kilo, Bravo, Alpha. Devil 1."

"One on Victor. Radio check," came familiar tenor of my flight lead.

"Two."

"Three," I spoke briefly into the oxygen mask, glancing back to see the ground crew pulling out red pins from the two five hundred pound bombs.

"Four," Kenji blurted.

"Engines spooled up, JFS off, electrics to power. All avionics power on, INS to align, heat turned up, oxygen on," I murmured to myself, my hands flying around the cockpit in practiced fashion.

Loud screeches drew my attention to the taxiway to our left. Powerful wails from the taxiing flight of Raptors had let the entire flight line know that the most advanced air to air fighters were preparing to takeoff. They lumbered gingerly towards the runway, their sleek outlines contrasting to their older brethren behind them. Behind the F-22As were the F-15DJs and F-15Ks in two flights of four. Unlike the loud banshee like wails of the Raptors, the Eagle's powerful turbines whistled nosily with power even penetrating the thick glass that was meant to muffle my ears from the eardrum bursting sounds of aircraft operation. The even larger SU-30s trundled behind all the American fighters with whining powerful thrust vectoring engines, following the line of aircraft towards the runway. It was the first time I had seen both the Raptor and the Super Flanker in real life. Both were intimidating in their own rights. The Raptor was sleek or high-speed as the Americans would say while the Super Flanker a brute of an aircraft operated by two personnel with its large frame capable of being scarily agile for its size.

I continued my usual checklist of obtaining weather, setting up weapon systems before eying the aligning internal navigation system. It was just a few minutes before completing its alignment procedure as I nodded to the crew chief standing with his hands behind his back. His subordinates had run to behind the aircraft to both check and secure any open panels.

"Flight controls check," I murmured into the oxygen mask, strapping the mask into my helmet.

"Yosh, flight controls check!" he yelled back enthusiastically with the roars of jet engines loud in the exchange.

My eyes snapped to the crew chief as he sat his right arm on his left.

"Ready," I replied.

The crew chief started chanting as I worked the flight stick according to his cadence, "Give me an up! Up! Down and down! Elevators good, now give me a left roll! Left roll! Right roll, right roll! Tailerons and ailerons looking good! Rudder right anddddd rudder left! Good from the left and good from the right!"

As the crew chief sung his inspection, I glanced back to manually verify the control surfaces of the aircraft moving according to my input. Large blue horizontal fins at the rear of the aircraft responded with a quick and deft response. The last of the red pins were pulled from the rest of weapons attached to the wings. Three large fuel tanks extended the range of the F-2B as two large laser guided JADMs were mounted on the third weapons station. One heat seeking missile was mounted on the right wingtip while the air instrumentation pod was mounted on the left to track simulated gunshots, outgoing and incoming missile launches. Blue training AAM-4B medium air to air missiles rounded out the combat package enabling us to fight beyond visual range, within visual range or move mud. A blinking light on the right brow of the aircraft's dashboard prompted me to turn the internal navigation switch from align to NAV, the navigation system's gyroscopic sensors spinning at speed to provide optimal direction-finding accuracy.

My eyes went back to the crew chief to give him a thumbs-up. He replied with a flash of his right hand, digits opening up from a fist to show an open palm. I pushed the throttle halfway up and pushed down hard on the rudder pedals to check the brakes. The whining engine roared with power. Shuddering shook the aircraft's frame as the brakes struggled to hold the fighter in place while it was under power. My eyes quickly bounced around the engine and hydraulics gauges to make sure the single turbofan was running properly before easing off the throttle.

"Pre-flight check complete! All green!" the crew chief yelled in my ears, "disconnecting interphone!"

I gave him a nod and looked up at the mirror, "you done, Kaze?"

"Done with the pre-flight check. I'm just inputting the weapon's release parameters, don't mind me," she grumbled back her oxygen mask already strapped to her helmet and the blackened flight visor down covering her eyes from the morning sun.

"Four, status," I spoke into the comms.

"EGI (Embedded GPS/INS) thirty seconds from alignment. Pre-flight checks complete," Kenji replied as I glanced to see him giving me an okay from his aircraft.

"Three, reporting element ready to taxi," I nodded and keyed the mic to report to the flight lead.

"One copies. One and two are ready for taxi as well. We're ahead of schedule by three minutes," the flight lead responded.

Lieutenant Colonel Sago 'Zapper' Kyoichi was the flight leader I was assigned under. His nickname came from his inherent hate of mosquitoes, always carrying an electric mosquito zapper everywhere he went while he was on base. Having been reassigned only a year or so prior, Zapper was a flight lead unlike others I have ever seen. Kyoichi had flown with the 201st years before and was a regular veteran in Red Flag exercises. Unlike most flight leads, he wasn't a stickler for rules and would bend them to get the mission accomplished whenever necessary. He was flexible, knew what he was doing and embodied the JASDF's motto of having 'dauntless courage' in every way. I tapped the center console to switch radio frequencies to copy the latest ATIS (Automated Terminal Information Service) report. A female voice spoke clearly in my ears about the current temperature, visibility, runway in use, air pressure and other remarks concerning the airbase. My hands jotted down the report on a small notepad strapped to my right thigh before glancing back up at the crew chief. He was waiting, hands behind his back just off to the left of the aircraft with his eyes locked onto Hirata and I.

Upon switching back to the tower's frequency I heard Zapper speak up, "Elmendorf, Samurai 1 is a four-ship of fox-2 bravos, ready to taxi to active runway with information India."

"Samurai 1, Elmendorf, cleared to 14 via, Kilo, Bravo, Alpha. You are number six for takeoff. Switch to channel four for takeoff." came a female's voice.

"Elmendorf, cleared 14. Kilo, Bravo, Alpha, number six queue, takeoff and channel four, takeoff. Samurai 1."

Glancing to the left through number two's glass canopy, I saw Zapper give a signal to pull out the chocks holding his aircraft in place. I did the same with my crew chief. The flight crew promptly rushed with vigor underneath my jet to pull out pairs of large yellow blocks. At this point, most of the air superiority elements were in the air. Only the escort packages protecting the jets bristling with high explosive goodness used to make craters in the ground. Our escorts were a two-ship of F-22As callsign Devil 3. Once they had delivered us to the area, they would transition from escorts to air superiority roles to support the other fighters roaming the air. German and Italian Tornadoes were tasked with the Wild Weasel role with Royal Thai Air Force F-16A ADFs escorting the package. Most of the SEAD (Suppression of Enemy Air Defense) flights and their escorts were in the process of taking off.

"One, rolling."

"Two."

I looked up to see Zapper cruising past us with his wingman. The nose of his highly-stylized F-2B bobbed up and down from the combined heavy weight and jerky braking of the Lieutenant Colonel. Zapper's aircraft was painted with a horseback riding Samurai on his vertical fine while smaller red markings denoted his position as squadron commander. The red nose cone sliced through the morning air while Zapper maneuvered his aircraft through the tightly packed bristling flight line. His weapon systems officer lounged in the back with a small handheld camera. Zapper's WSO snapped quick memorabilia pictures as he rolled past us. I gave a lazily two finger pace sign while he rolled by much to his amusement. Behind me, I could see Hirata raising her hands energetically from the rear facing mirrors.

As number two rolled by, I glanced up to see Hirata staring down at her thighs, "you ready to do this?"

"Hell yeah!" yelled Kaze excitedly from the backseat.

Waving my right hand forward, I gave the signal to the crew chief that I was ready to taxi. He nodded and raised his hands. As he started waving us forwards, I eased the throttle forward to hear the slightly delayed response of the single engine whining louder in my ears. The Viper Zero crawled forwards with a bob from its heavy payload. My heart started to pound from excitement as the realization hit me – this was my first Red Flag and we were about to begin literally with a bang. A thousand pounds of bang. As we were signaled to turn left, I gave the crew chief a quick and crisp salute before curling three of my fingers inwards to give him a 'rock on' farewell. The crew chief's lips opened in a large smile. I could only see that he was laughing as he gave Hirata and I the same salute, waving goodbye as we embarked on our first morning sortie.

"Three, moving," I murmured on our flight's comms channel.

"Four."

We slowly taxied to the runway behind a flight of Israeli F-16I Sufas in all their desert camouflage glory. Ironic since they were flying their aircraft in the complete opposite environment of their usual area of operations. Nothing in the green, blue and white backdrop of Alaska matched their jets and so they stood out like targets with a large bullseye painted on their back. The CFTs (Conformal Fuel Tanks) bolted onto the top of their fuselages made their aircraft look bulky, almost tumor-like to certain people. But I always liked the look, sleek but functional. It allowed them to stay in the air longer. Still, our F-2Bs were far larger than our agile cousins. Small yellow signs with letters lead us from the refueling area towards the waiting area just next to the runway. As we approached the edge of the runway, we were vectored by two men onto a wide area with two other aircraft waiting for takeoff. I watched the next two aircraft being their taxi towards the runway from the waiting area. The EA-18Gs were the US Navy's newest addition to the line of Hornets. They had replaced the older EA-6Bs in service. The two aircraft would take to the skies to support the Italian Tornadoes in their wide-spectrum jamming mission while the F-16CJs trailing behind them would mop up the mess.

"Samurai 1, cleared for takeoff. Wind three-three-zero at six. Two nine two six. Contact departure on channel eight, have a good flight. Elmendorf," came the clearance.

My eyes perked up from the call.

"Two nine two six, departure on eight. Samurai 1."

"Kick the tires and light the fires!" Kenji yelled excitedly on the VHF channel.

The men watching the waiting area gestured us forwards as the other aircraft had already taken off. We were right behind the EA-18Gs as they took to the skies in spectacular fashion. I watched the grey electronic hornets streaking into the skies, their afterburners lit with a brilliant yellowish cone extending from their twin engines. Trails of water vapors extended from both their wingtips and the ram air powered jammers. Within seconds they pulled up and into the scattered formation of clouds lazily hanging overhead. There was no fanfare as the mustered jets seemed to be taking off by the second with no end in sight. With a quick glance back, I could see the flight line and waiting area filled with aircraft waiting to take to the skies. Their wings were bristling with fuel tanks, weapons and electronic pods.

"One, burners," I heard Zapper call out.

"Two, rolling!" another call just a few seconds after I watched Zapper lift into the sky.

I rolled the Viper Zero onto the runway, lining up with the distance markings on the smooth asphalt. I had taken up space on the right side of the runway in a two-ship formation takeoff. Zapper and his wingman were far off. Their brightly burning orange engines casted dancing shimmers of heat on the slightly sloped runway. Coming to a stop, my right hand moved the flight stick one last time to make sure the control surfaces were in good shape. Kenji's F-2B purred just behind and left of me. His attention was all on me, his final inspection of his aircraft already done before we had even hit the smooth tarmac of the runway. Eyes scanned around for a final check of the dashboard before I looked up to see Hirata give me a thumbs-up. Nodding, I pressed down on the push-to-talk and dropped my head until my chin hit my chest.

That was the signal for Kenji to go.

"Three, on the go juice."

I slammed the throttle forward and over the gate, pushing the single turbine into afterburner. A loud roar filled my ear as the single turbofan dumped fuel straight into the blazing hot exhaust in a controlled explosion of jet fuel and hot air. I was pushed into the back of my seat, my head stuck to the wafer-thin cushioning of the military standard ejection seat. Air was forced into my lungs. The oxygen system was doing its work. It was a struggle just to breathe from the acceleration of the jet as it picked up speed. At 80 knots the nose wheel system automatically switched off to prevent even the most minute changes to the nose wheel from throwing the fully loaded eighteen-ton aircraft into the cold, winter ground. The speed tape climbed at a slow but steady pace. A shuddering shook the aircraft at 180 knots in pulsing waves. I could hear my aircraft talking through me from the vibrations against my back, helmet and boots. Metal wings flexed, vibrating quickly from the weight of its stores trying to take to the air. Its wings were catching the wind as I gently pulled back on the flight stick. The aircraft shook for a brief moment, the rushing winds pulled the aircraft off the ground and into the sky. With my head pushed into the ejection seat and body glued against cushion, I glanced up from the cockpit after putting the gear up to see the ground gone.

All I could see was a cotton filled blue sky.

In a steep climb, I rolled the aircraft right to regroup with Zapper.

"Three and four in the air," I muttered with labored breaths into the mask, "returning to formation."

Small chirps filled my ears. The Viper Zero's datalink was transmitting my entire flights' information to me and vice versa. The aircraft smoothly to turned northeast towards Eielson Air Force Base to join up with the rest of the aircraft soaring at their cruise speed towards the training area. My F-2B slid effortlessly beside Zapper's in a tight finger-four formation. Lagging behind just slightly and below, his left wingtip was in line with his cockpit. Resembling the tips of four fingers without the thumb, the finger-four formation allowed the flight lead and element lead to open fire while the flight remains intact while the wingman covers the lead aircraft's rear.

It was the most common formation used by fighter aircraft.

"Three, saddled," I called out, telling Zapper was in formation.

Switching frequencies, I keyed into the UNICOM channel used by Blue Force aircraft.

"Magic, pop-up group, BRAA, 315 for thirty, hot."

"Raptor 1, Magic, we're on the pop-up group. Declare."

"Magic, Raptor 1, Fox-16s, hostiles."

"Things are about to get interesting up here," Kenji said happily on our comms.

"Keep focused Hacker. We're up with more than twelve other nations. A mess-up here taints our reputation on an international community of pilots. Not to mention," Zapper chuckled before adding, "your name will be known to all those that participate in Red Flag."

"Great, no pressure, right?" Kenji sighed.

The F-22A Raptors were at least fifty to eighty nautical miles ahead of us. With their early takeoff and supercruise ability at almost twice the speed of sound, they rocketed away from us far faster than we could ever hope to catch up. A series of beeps rang out in my helmet. The radar returns lit up my left MFCD (Multifunction Color Display) like a Christmas tree. Everything from ten nautical miles all the way to eighty nautical miles were filled with white square dots standing in for aircraft. Every thousand feet were stacked with formations of jets to help with maneuvering when simulated missiles and guns start to fly in the electronically metered training space.

At thirty-five thousand feet, the ground curved downwards giving way to the sky. The mix of light blue atmosphere where we breathed and the dark blue and black of space. Clouds were scattered around the entire terrain of snowcapped mountains and green forests casting a darkened black shadow under their protective embrace. The sun was much more intense. Even with the glow orb far behind me, the glare was still blinding enough to hurt my eyes. I lowered the darkened visor over my sensitive eyes and focused on Zapper. Minutes passed as we flew in close formation. Zapper glanced over to me and planted his left gloved hand onto the canopy. I turned to Kenji, planting my own hand on the sun heated Plexiglas. His helmeted face disappeared behind a blur of smoothed intermediate blue as he banked his aircraft left to create space between our formation. I banked the jet left to do the same creating room between the Zapper and I before leveling off and placing the aircraft on autopilot.

"One, fence in," came the order.

"Two."

"Three," I acknowledged before switching over radio frequencies to the delayed GUARD channel.

"Four."

My left hand flicked the master arm on. The only live-fire weapons we had were the two giant bombs slung between the giant drop tanks and the dummy medium range air-to-air missiles. They only had the electronic guts of their combat counterparts. A press of the button would only send a signal the training command monitored on the range resulting either in a kill or miss. I switched the radar from air-to-air to air-to-ground mode. The left display lit up in a swath of green mimicking the terrain below us with limited definition. Small radar returns showed up in a similarly bright green box. The green and right formation lights were extinguished as we prepared to cross into enemy territory. With a couple dozen minutes left before we even reach the general area where our target was located, I pulled off my oxygen mask and reached into my helmet bag. A small Ziploc bag filled with beef jerky appeared from the bag. With only a toast of bread and coffee as my breakfast, I knew the fast tempo of non-stop operations would leave me constantly hungry and famished.

Biting into the tough beef, the first explosive contacts of aerial warfare was occurring miles ahead as the Raptors pounced on the aggressing F-16s. More and more fighters popped up to keep the blue force occupied. F/A-18Cs from Navy training units were also here to support the two aggressor squadrons stationed at Eielson. A fur ball of F-16s, F-15s, F-18s and F-22s turned the forward spear of the strike force into a mess. Below us, I could see the contrails of dogfighting jets curving in and out of existence as they climbed, dived and turned below and above thirty thousand feet mark in a contest of skill, prowess and wits. Orbs of burning orange and strips of aluminum were constantly being jettisoned by the aircraft to decoy simulated missiles and throw off infrared guidance systems. Our package passed over them with no contest while our escort, Devil 3, vectored off to fight the respawning enemy. Blue force's aircraft once shot down would return back to base and be benched until the next scenario while Red Force's aircraft would fly back and either respawn away from the area of operations or refuel and take to the skies once again to make up for their limited number of aircraft available.

"Samurai 1, Magic, passing steer point six. Executing mission," Zapper informed our AWACS.

"Roger that Samurai 1, I'll vector some fighters after they're free for tasking," replied the AWACS operator.

I was forced to shove the jerky back into the helmet bag and chew whatever left of the tough dried meat was still inside my mouth. The cockpit of the F-2B was hard to breathe in without the oxygen mask. Pressurized at 12,000 feet, it was hypoxic even to be breathing for a few minutes without taking a whiff of oxygen coming out from the mask. Without it, I'd become a dizzy and incoherent mess before crashing into the ground. I glanced up at the rear mirror to see Hirata taking a sip of orange juice from her metal bottle. She held up a finger telling me to wait a moment before she twisted on the cap and strapped on her mask. I rolled my eyes purposefully to solicit an exasperated sigh from her.

With a laugh, I turned to Zapper and gave him a two-finger salute to signal that we were about to split off. He nodded and replied the gesture before flashing his formation lights, banking off to the right. I did the same, flashing my formation lights to warn Kenji I was about to turn and banking off left towards my own pre-briefed target. Our targets were a cluster of six buildings inside a walled off compound to mock a forward operating base where ground forces would deploy from. My flight was in charge of making sure imaginary troops would never leave the base to attack friendly forces in contact over the simulated border. It was a simple shoot and scoot mission.

If anything was ever that simple.

"Eyes on the target compound Kitsune, ten miles to the east. Targeting pod's on the southeastern most structure," Kaze reported from the rear seat.

In the right display, I could see the grainy outlines of buildings clustered together. The standard issued J/AAQ-2 was old compared to the equipment the other nations fielded. They were developed five years before the more advanced Sniper Advanced Targeting Pods came into service with the United States. Since then, the Sniper pods received continuous upgrades to make them even better at their job while the J/AAQ-2 was left behind in both technological development and funds to further develop the platform. In our fervor to develop an aircraft of our own, most of the projects that were supposed to be continued upgrades were axed in favor of international aircraft and a diminishing defense budget. It resulted in barely adequate systems still being used by pilots that actually were flying the aircraft in operations. As we closed the distance, the picture became clearer with each mile.

"Alright, three's going to walk the eastern most targets. Four, you get the west and walk it up," I ordered, briefing both Hacker and Kaze on what they needed to do.

"Four," came the brief acknowledgement.

We flew our standard combat spacing. I loved flying with another person in the backseat. While they messed about with things like weapons parameters, electronic systems and radio monitoring, I focused on what I truly loved – flying. Even though I had been trained to do everything myself in an F-2A, flying with a partner was both comforting and reassuring. It also meant that I talked to myself during missions much less that I used to. Bringing up the air-to-ground weapons mode, I selected the two laser guided bombs slung underneath my wings. The heads-up display flickered from the standard pitch bars to include a small release pipper to indicate when the laser guided bombs were in release parameters. As we leveled off for the final attack run, I kept a close eye on the radar warning receiver.

Only a minute or two out from the bombs dropping a voice spoke calmly in my ears, "Magic, Samurai 1, pop-up group bearing 275 for ten, hot."

A group of fighters had appeared less than ten miles to our west. How did that happen? My eyes glanced left trying to spot the incoming fighters. I could see anything in the snowcapped mountains far to the west. I scrunched my eyebrows and focused hard – uphold the mission. We were going to push it, but it was a risk I was going to take. Those bombs have to drop otherwise a stream of enemies would continue to harass friendly ground forces. Simulation or not, this was an exercise to mimic the real battlefield.

"Three, advise," came Hacker's calm voice on comms.

"Press," I ordered coolly, continue the attack.

Our two aircraft continued our heading as my eyes tried hard to find the fighters materializing what seemed to be thin air, but I knew better. They were probably terrain masking, flying low and using mountains to block and confuse the powerful AWACS's rotodome equipped pulse-Doppler radar with ground clutter. A series of loud chirps ran in my ears as a diamond with a 16 in the center popped up on the outer ring and on the left side of the circular RWR (Radar Warning Receiver) display. They turned on their radars and were coming after us. My heart started to race, breathing quickened. I could feel electricity zipping throughout the aircraft's metal skin and inside the cockpit. The hairs on my neck started to stand as the pipper passed over a bracket signaling weapons release parameters.

I held down the weapons release button.

A shaking shook the Viper Zero. I glanced back to make sure the JDAM came off the weapons rack. GPS coordinates were locked into the freefalling bombs guided only by a small aero kit installed at the rear of the dumb bombs. Satellites overhead made sure the five hundred pound bombs were on target to the meter. As one bomb dropped, I quickly thumbed the weapons release to drop the other knowing that Hirata would have already designated the next target. I looked to the other wing to see the green JDAM punched out from the hardpoint as another slight shudder shook the aircraft and flexed the blue titanium composite wing of the F-2B. My left finger immediately went to the left panel and flicked the limiter off. The F-2B had two limiter modes to prevent the heavy bombs from snapping the wings right off from the weight. With the limiter on, the aircraft flew sluggishly and had the turning radius the size of Texas. Without it, it would be as nimble as a falcon.

My eyes glanced back towards Kenji to catch a pair of rapidly ascending blue dots growing in size from the green forests below.

"Tally two unknown bandits, seven o'clock, low," I blurted on the guard channel as Kenji released his payload, "four, float right towards steer ten."

"Wilco," Kenji replied coolly.

We were in an international training exercise and fighter pilots were trained to stay calm under fire.

Whatever we did we had to sound cool and calm for the frenzied troops fighting on the ground.

Kenji and I both turned our aircraft east bound. My left hand thumbed the switches on the throttle to hear a pops and fizzes exploding out behind our aircraft. An orange glow lit up the cockpit with artificial light before falling in a trail of white smoke. Flares and chaff shot out of our jets to distract and decoy the aggressing fighters as we turned towards Elmendorf. The aggressors screamed towards us at the speed of heat, their clean F-16Cs in full afterburner. They rose like a speeding rocket as a familiar high-pitched beep screamed in my ears and the bracketed diamond 16 on the RWR inside the inner circle. Both F-16Cs were inside maximum missile deployment range and they were quickly gaining on us. Just a few more minutes and the two Vipers would be above us, diving down towards us to keep up their speed in a fight they dominated in almost every way.

"Samurai 13, defensive bullseye two nine zero for 120. Angels 35," I grunted, inverting the fighter and pull straight down towards the ground in an attempt to gain speed.

"Samurai 13, Devil 3, give us five mikes and we'll divert," came the call from a friendly Raptor.

"Four, strip. Notch right," I ordered, craning my head to see Kenji peel off from formation.

"Four stripped. Notching right," Kenji grunted back.

I could feel the F-2B's metal frame shuddering against my boots, wings flexing from the high G maneuver. Instinctively, I was grunting each of my breaths and squeezing my legs to keep blood inside my head. My left hand pulled the power back to let gravity do the work as I watched the second fighter in the two-ship formation break off the chase after Kenji. Hirata had her hands against the canopy, bobbing her head back and forth in an attempt to keep an eye on the persistent bandit. The HUD's speed tape zipped by quickly as the heavy fuel loaded fighter plummeted towards the ground. At some point, I saw a blur of white engulf the middle of the jet before disappearing from the corner of my eyes as we crossed the speed of sound. My shoulders were starting to ache from the straps tying me down to the ejection seat. Breathing was loud in my ears as all I could see was the green tree tops of the ground.

"We're opening the distance!" Kaze panting from the back seat, the motion of just looking back was tiring for her.

Soon, we'd hit the ground if I kept using gravity as a crutch. Altitude was something that we didn't have as a luxury. I'd use it as a temporary measure to keep empty space between the F-16C and my F-2B. The altitude tape ticked below fourteen thousand feet. We'd just burned through sixteen thousand feet within a matter of seconds. Eyes scanned the immediate area to find a cluster of mountains rising up from the ground. My lips pressed together under thought. Jerking the flight stick left, I rolled my aircraft towards the mountains and pulled up hard. The weight of nine men pushed me back down into my seat. Rumbling shook the Viper Zero from the violent maneuver. We had bled off some air speed, allowing for the lighter aircraft to catch up. I started to weave the fighter jet left and right in wide, gentle turns. Initiating the flat scissors, I watched as the aggressor pilot nosedived down below me and pulled his nose up to cut his speed in a lagging pursuit. Another series of pops exploded out from behind my jet to confuse the F-2B's smaller cousin's sensors.

"No eyes, no eyes!" Kaze warned as I rolled the aircraft left and right to help her keep track of the Fighting Falcon, "he's pulling up and over us, using the vertical!"

Pulling the flight stick back and right, the Viper Zero's nose rose violently towards the sky. The aircraft slipped sideways turning the blue sky into green forests as I corkscrewed the aircraft into another dive towards the ground. Climbing, the F-16C quickly reversed his skewed ascension to give chase. Below me was a cloud formation two to three miles wide. It was dense and voluminous. Just what I needed. A few seconds of cover and maybe I could give this guy a run for his money. Slamming the throttle forward, I had hoped to dump whatever fuel I still had in the tanks into the engine making me lighter, more maneuverable and faster. The clouds zoomed past us. Thick white clouds casted an impressive black shadow over the forest as I dipped just below the clouds to dump flares before pulling up into the formation of moisture. Liquid splashed against the cockpit, streaking down the entire length of the heated canopy. Quickened breathing filled my ears. Hazy fogs of opaque white slammed into the aircraft while flickering sunlight struggled to cut through the dense veil.

"Alright, where are you Viper…where are you…?" I murmured to myself, the F-2B punching through the clouds and was once again under the dazzling glow of the sun.

I kept the aircraft close to the clouds, using the jet's intermediate blue under fuselage paint to my advantage. I flicked off the radar to stop the radio emissions from tipping off his radar warning receiver and pulled back the throttle to stop myself from flying too fast. The F-16C Fighting Falcon, also known lovingly to pilots and ground crew alike as the Viper, was armed with nothing but a heat seeking missile and instrumentation pod. All they had was their eyes and radar to find us.

I just hoped that he kept his radar silent to surprise us while we were in the clouds.

Hirata and I glided just above the puffs of cotton in spectacular fashion. Clouds of white vapor fluttered in and out of our vision, the jet blasting through the air at speed. Water splattered onto the canopy as we rushed through the clouds. I kept the aircraft just between the clouds and the clear blue sky in case the aggressor pilot appeared behind us so we could make a quick escape. Hirata fired up the FLIR pod and turned the downward looking infrared pod into an air-to-air heat seeking camera. The HUD flickered bright green to overlay the FLIR image in front of me. Seconds later, I could see the blurry white blob from below shooting upwards.

Just as the F-16C appeared from the clouds, I knew that he saw me.

"Tally 16 one o'clock!" Kaze confirmed our visual sighting.

"Pressing," I grunted, slamming on the power.

An explosive roar filled my ears.

The F-16C barrel rolled straight back into the clouds. I followed him, lagging just slightly behind trying hard not to overshoot the much more agile aircraft. Blue sky turned an opaque gray. The burning white blob turned and rolled inside the bright green HUD. My left thumb smacked the dogfight button to immediately lock onto the maneuvering fighter with my radar. A loud computerized female sternly said 'lock' in my ears, a small square dancing around the HUD over the whitish blob. Grunts escaped my lips as the Viper Zero loaded and unloaded Gs, the weight on my body quickly multiplying and decreasing within a few seconds. We rolled, turned and tussled in the whitish grey mists of the clouds. It would be seconds before we shot out of the clouds and into the air below.

"Fuck!" I growled, the water clearing from the canopy after we shot out of the moisture to see high mountain peaks rising from the ground to meet us.

"Missile launch! Eight o'clock, low!" Kaze warned as my head snapped back to see a rising missile plume from the ground.

"Samurai 13, defensive bullseye two eight two for 90. Weeds," I grunted, punching out flares to decoy the training heat seeking missile while trying to keep track of the F-16C.

"Flare, low," a computerized voice warned as flares rippled out of the jet in volleys of four.

"I know, Betty!" I grumbled and saw only a dozen or so flares left in the aircraft.

The aggressor pilot pulled sharply behind the mountain, breaking the lock I had on him. I had two options – disengage and live to fight another day or chase the Russian camouflaged American fighter. In my heated youth, I chose to chase. My right hand twitched slightly to nimbly maneuver the larger jet through the air, barely clipping the snowcapped ridges of the mountain range. Snow blasted from the peaks as I shot past the serene white. The maneuver sent sheets of packed snow rumbling down the mountain in an avalanche while the simulated missile arced straight into the side of the mountains turning into pieces of scrap metal. I reversed the turn to fly right inside the valley wide enough to fight three aircraft flying in close formation. Vibrations shook my boots as turbulence from the aircraft was reflected off the ground. Flying below two thousand feet was dangerous but was commonplace, the fly-by-wire system made it easy to keep the F-2B under control as we rocketed over twisting rivers of blue and green. Water shot up from the streams behind us as I spotted the F-16C not far from us. The radar was silent, our jet easing ever closer behind the unsuspecting DACT (Dissimilar Air Combat Training) fighter jet.

He must have thought I turned tail and ran.

With my thumb poised over the mode switch button, I waited until the very last second. Just as the pilot spotted me and tried to shake me off by pulling straight up into a vertical climb, I had switched the radar on and locked him. My right hand pulled the sidestick hard back. I felt my body weight soar. It felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest, crushing my lungs as air was forced into them. I was on the brink of suffocating between the two opposing forces before the weight was lifted from my torso. Air flooded my lungs with relief as the gun's pipper was held straight behind the fighter. My index finger squeezed the trigger. A shuddering tore through the aircraft, shaking it violently as blank rounds were spat out from the twenty-millimeter gun.

 _Brrruuppp!_

 _Pop! Pop! Pop!_

"Splash one Fox-16 Charlie!" grunted Kaze as we were both pressed against the ejection seat.

I held the trigger down for two seconds before rolling smoothly out from the now ninety degree climb straight up from the sky, expending the last of my flares to decoy any of the infrared training missiles down below. Small trackers in the ACMI pod fitted to the wing tip of my F-2B recorded each gunshot simulating the kill and removing the aggressor temporarily from the battlefield. I watched as he pulled slowly out of the climb and turned on his formation lights to signal that he was 'dead'. Green and red lights flashed on the mimicked blue splinter camouflage of the Viper.

For the time being anyway.

Hirata and I dove straight back down into the Earth to skim treetops behind the mountains to evade any more of the shoulder launched air to ground missiles. Later that day, Kenji had shaken off his own bandit as Devil 3 came to his rescue. Colonel Sago and his wingman were just a couple miles in front of patrolling friendly Korean F-15K Slam Eagles when the second group of two bandits appeared from underneath. They were met with a wall of simulated medium range air to air missiles. Out of our entire squadron of F-2Bs, only Hirata and I were the only ones to kill an aggressor aircraft that day.

It was one of my six kills in Red Flag Alaska.


	17. Chapter 15: Land of the Rising Sun

Chapter 15: Land of the Rising Sun

An orange glow was cast on the dirt of Alnus Hill. Soft breezy winds blew through the base during the cool dawn as I adjusted the green beret sitting on my head. A giant green overcoat was thrown on my body in preparation for the return trip back home but in the Special Region, I was sweating bullets in the Mediterranean morning. The green beret with its flash signified that I was as one of the 1st Airborne Brigade paratroopers. Special Forces Group members had to hide their identities from the public eye and so were often taking on personas in other combat units. My team and I had fake identities in the 1st AB's 3rd Infantry Battalion. Conveniently, it was also Ishihara's and Sanada's home unit.

When I woke up this morning, my entire body was numb and sore. Small white bandages covered the scratches across my body like spots on a Dalmatian. Panache was curled up next to me on my bed. After spending all night discovering the laptop I had owned and the internet, she obsessed over it until she passed out on the desk while I finished off a stack of paperwork and my mission reports with a bottle of whiskey. I didn't get much sleep the night before either, maybe a couple hours at the most.

Kenji stood next to us in civilian uniforms having voluntarily turning his wings in. I had talked to him for a few minutes before the convoy of fresh supplies rolled in from Japan but the man was long gone. His confidence from years before had disappeared. The once fiery and fearless fighter pilot had been extinguished with either age or the realities of combat. Kenji's psyche was broken. There was no way he was coming back from what he experienced. Instead of his white uniform, Kenji donned his standard black suit and had his personal effects in a duffle bag. With shoulders slumped and dark bags under his eyes, Kenji waited for his trip back home.

Convoys of heavy duty commercial trucks had rolled in offloading pallets from tarp covered rears. Crates of ammunition, food, medical supplies and other items were in the process of being transported to the main base. Our luggage was swiftly taken away by soldiers handling the supplies as I reached towards my hips to feel the reassuring bulge of a suppressed Glock 22 sitting in its holster. The team's individual weapons were stored at the armory and only our sidearm were authorized to be carried back to Japan. With recent incidents, in Ginza and the inn, a few of the military personnel in addition to the military police were permitted to conceal carry off-duty.

With a sigh, I glanced over to a dressed White Rose.

"This is far too heavy," Panache murmured, sweat dribbling down from her face.

"It's going to be cold in Japan you know. You ever seen snow here in Falmart?" I asked, tugging at the heavy collar of the overcoat.

"Snow? Is it those things the rabbit folk and bear folk tell stories about? If you go high enough rain becomes ice right?" Panache replied as Okuda placed a hand on her shoulder, making her jump.

"You'll see how cold it can get soon, young miss," laughed Okuda.

"We will start departing for Japan in five minutes!" yelled out one of the drivers as he pulled his parka back on.

After the mandatory provisions were offloaded, resources from the Special Region were loaded back onto the trucks. Rare metals were loaded in giant crates with large padlocks placed over the cases for protection. Wares from the town of Alnus and gold used by the empire to pay back Japan for reparations were also loaded onto the crates. The rest of the space were used to transport troops going on their furlough or for civilians traveling back to Earth. Most of the transport had shifted from Alnus towards the river Rho and since then as the gate on the river was far larger and permitted large volumes of items to be transported. Even now, I saw the grip of Japanese and international organizations appearing everywhere. Civilians from the private sectors and diplomats were already here scouting an area for their own means. Soon, the other nations would be here to build up their own joint base two years after the battle of Ginza. Not to mention the other size of the coin were active in protesting the military. Greenpeace were out in force along with numerous other environmentalist agencies demanding the Japanese Self Defense Force withdraw from the region since our trucks, aircraft and buildings were starting the long slippery slope of global environmental pollution.

Large projects were already from the Japanese government were underway such as the rocket launch pads soon to be used to launch satellites into the Special Region's skies to provide both long-range communication and navigation for anyone with a GPS receiver or a satellite phone. Research teams were arriving in force to investigate both magic and the strange fauna of the Special Region. The groundwork of urban cities was nearly finished with the gate being at the center of a rapidly expanding base. Anything short of a magical army numbering in the thousands would be required to even breach the outer walls armed with early warning sensors, heavy machine guns and CIWS (Close-In Weapon Systems).

I grunted in contempt.

Finally, I was going on my short leave.

I watched nine soldiers step onto the back of an Isuzu troop transport truck. Hasegawa was recently added to Susanowo to become my team's radio operator and intelligence officer while we were underway at sea. Instead of going back for leave, Hasegawa would undergo training as support staff for a Special Forces ODA (Operational Detachment – Alpha) team. All of my men were dressed in their Class A uniform. We had to look good for the press, after all we were a returning members of the 1st Airborne Brigade. As we boarded the truck, I helped Panache up and spotted a group of recruits marching at speed down the main road of Alnus Hill.

Unlike normal recruits, they were a mix of humans and humanoids.

These recruits were being trained to become the Japanese Self Defense Force's counterpart to the United States Army's 75th Ranger Regiment. Nicknamed 'Raiders' they would do just as their nickname suggests, conducting lightning raids, assault operations and force reconnaissance at anytime, anywhere and anyhow. While the 1st Airborne Brigade was Japan's elite paratrooper unit, they were meant to counter guerrilla and special forces units in open warfare. The Special Forces Group members were far too few with many being deployed in reconnaissance roles from Sadera all the way to both coasts of Falmart to gather more information on the Eurasia sized continent. Whatever few that were still garrisoned inside Alnus were either direct action units performing raids themselves or were teaching the indigenous to fight an impending war since the neighbors of both sides of the Empire weren't so keen when the Empress announced her support for Japan.

So the Raiders were created by officers from both the Airborne Brigade and the Special Forces Group with active duty Special Forces Group soldiers training the new recruits. Special Region members were vetted months' prior while the normal human soldiers were pulled from the 1st Airborne Brigade, Western Army Infantry Regiment and the standard ground forces. The requirements were less stringent than the 1st AB putting an emphasis on physical and mental fortitude over anything else. The Raiders would go from raw recruit to active duty in less than three months after selection and training. Four hundred recruits would be the first men and women to brave the fires of US Army Ranger derived training.

Only one hundred and fifty were expected to pass.

Booming of engines started in an orchestral rumble. Fifteen trucks slowly lined up to travel back through the gate. Heavy steel gates guarded the entrance to the gate with pillboxes armed with both M2 Browning heavy machine guns and Type 87 Chu-MAT anti-tank laser guided missiles. While these were designed to keep anything from coming in, another set of pillboxes were set up only meters away to keep anything from coming out from the gate. Klaxons blared loudly announcing the opening of the steel doors, prompting the gate guards to rush to their positions and raise their weapons. Poor soldiers, each time the gateway opened they have to rush to positions. On most days that would be three times a day almost every day.

The morning sun turned pitch black as we rumbled through the spatial tunnel. Lights from the trucks flashed on to reveal nothing but pure darkness engulfing the convoy. Reddish streaks of light disappeared from the air with an invisible bridge holding up the trucks from below. The headlight's halogen white turned into an ominous blue glow. My eyes caught specks of light from around me as if the darkness was actually a bridge across space and time with everything in between being galaxies and starts. They were dim just light enough in the dark to see with the naked eye. Mediterranean heat was gone, the warmth sucked out by a biting chill. A fog of vapor started to escape my lips with each exhale as a frigid wind blew from the front of the trucks. Bright white light pierced through the blackness soon after, enveloping us in a bright glow of a familiar sun.

The brilliant light blinded my eyes.

The acquainted sound of bustling soon filled my ears. Whispering of cars droning to and from their destination, people talking while they were shopping and the loud booming announcements of shops amidst the chirping of birds and howling winter winds. Tall buildings flanked either sides of us with the familiar asphalt paving of a developed country not to mention the crowd of protestors along with military police. A musky smell was prevalent in the air one that I hadn't noticed while leaving for the Special Region or while I was in it. The accustomed warmth of the Special Region was gone, instead the frosty chill of fall replaced it.

This was Japan alright and we were back.

As we passed the inner walls of the gateway, the trucks came to a stop just outside the walls and lined up for offloading. Those materials that could be separated and transported by smaller vehicles for security were done so. Heavily armed military and blacked out private security SUVs flanked each of the smaller convoys heading out from the Gate. We were handed our bags as we disembarked the trucks and headed out towards the immigration offices. The process was often swift since there were no visas to cross over into the Special Region but security checks were still stringent for any sort of items deemed unfit for the primitive world. Of course, there would be a standard firearms check for civilians in addition to all of this.

Naturally, that wasn't the end of our trip. The eleven of us were ushered onto two cars, this time driven and protected by men wearing suits. I noticed them in an instant to be Japanese Special Forces. Our community was small enough to know everyone and these men were assigned the hardest job of VIP and HVT protection. They were often loaned out to the Imperial Guard due to their personal protection proficiency. It was a thirty-minute ride to Camp Narashino as we rolled smoothly past the maroon bricked checkpoint and into the massive camp. Large buildings stood at the entrance before opening up to a large open field where the 1st AB did their training. We were whisked away into another gated and tightly monitored area of the base guarded by soldiers dressed in nothing but a helmet, balaclava and a simple load bearing vest. Cameras, bomb dogs and men were constantly patrolling the small cluster of buildings as we were approved to enter the compound.

Panache was quickly instructed to sit and wait at the lobby with two burly looking masked soldiers standing just to the sides of her to watch her. Steely eyes glanced down at the barely legal knight with scrutiny. While the rest of my team went their separate ways, I reported to the commander of the Japanese Special Forces Group. It was none other than Colonel Takanori Hirata himself. Strangely enough, the Hirata I knew in the Air Self Defense Force and Colonel Hirata of the Japanese Special Forces Group weren't related. The Colonel gave me the necessary paperwork for a training demonstration exercise I would be conducting for new recruits vying to get into the Special Forces Group, Panache's flight training approval after months of requested paperwork was filed and extra equipment my father had requisitioned for my unit. Colonel Hirata also formalized the promotion from Captain to Major as well as reassigning my squad to be directly under the MoD's (Ministry of Defense) jurisdiction while underway at sea.

This essentially meant that I had free reign of my own operation.

It didn't take long before I was officially on 'leave'. I quickly ditched the Class A uniforms in the changing rooms and donned something more casual. Loose fitting black jeans, standard desert combats with a tee and softshell jacket was all I needed. My right hand reached down to unstrap the metal buckle of the softshell jacket to reveal the Glock 22 riding securely in my belt holster complete with two extra magazines on the other side of my hip. A combat knife hung horizontally from my rear belt just in case I was unable to get to my sidearm. I pulled on a black baseball hat, grabbed Panache after she changed out of her traditional cold weather imperial garb and exited out the rear to make sure no one else see us leave.

As I approached the parking lot of the base, I heard a loud yell in English, "Yo Drake!"

I turned to see a burly man just slightly shorter than me with a graying buzz cut and tattoos covering both of his arms.

"Hey Pops," I said with a wide smile.

Behind him was my mother dressed in a heavy winter coat, tacky snowboarding pants and heavy winter boots. A greenish shemagh covered her neck along with a black beanie protecting her head from the cold. My father on the other hand had nothing more than his cammies and a tee despite the cold weather. The air was a brisk cold with fresh snow on the grass fields and melted puddles of water where ice was on the road. Just then, a small blur of softness slammed into my leg.

"Ryu-nii!" squealed the little ball of energy.

Reaching down, I picked up a small girl just shorter than my knee.

"How are you, Koala?" I asked, placing my younger sister on the back of my neck.

Koala was her nickname.

It was given to her because she loved clinging onto my legs and arms when she was small like a small baby koala. A ball of energy, she had waist length blonde hair inherited from my father's side of the family. Tsumugi Anderson was born in the very same hospital I was admitted when my left leg was broken after the accident. Tsumugi was born just a few months after I was admitted for care in the hospital. Instead of my mother taking most of the care, she left it up to me to keep my mind of my current situation. Eventually, Koala became more attached to me than her own mother. Even when mom tried to hold her she would cry when she was small. I had to spend three nights trying to console the toddler Koala that I was leaving for retraining with the Ground Self Defense Force.

"Good!" she yelled excitedly.

"Recently come back from a skirmish I see," chuckled the old man, "who's this? You going to introduce me to your charge?"

"I'm uh, Panache Fure Kalgi! I'm Ryu Anderson's bride-to-be!" she blurted out loudly in the parking lot.

I felt my chilled skin just become rapidly covered with sweat. If I was going to shit myself scared it would be now. I saw my father's eyes twitch. Even the grizzled war veteran of countless tours was slapped in the face with shock. My mother, Akane Anderson, her eyes narrowed to slits as she pulled the oblivious four-year-old off my shoulder before my father pulled me aside. His grip was extremely tight. I swore that he could break bones with just one of his hands and my arm was at risk.

"Are you a fucking pedophile, Ryu? This wasn't how I raised you," hissed my father.

"Look we got wasted one night and it sounds bad but this is normal in the Special Region," I whispered back, "it's just a fifteen-year gap!"

"Normal doesn't make it okay Ryu!" growled Thomas.

"Look Pop, I don't know what this is but I have feelings for her okay? I've already told her that I would take responsibility but I didn't fucking propose to her!" I hissed back.

"As long as she consents to it. Then I guess…" Thomas mumbled, combing through his dirty blonde full beard as our gaze went back to my mother, Panache and Koala.

I watched as Tsumugi had her arms around Panache's neck and her legs locked around her waist. It would just be a year or two before she no longer could piggyback anybody. My mother was, for the moment, talking happily with Panache. A growl escaped my father's throat once more before he gestured for me to go back. My other sister, Ayase Anderson, was attending high school at the moment and was unable come meet me. Pops had concocted a genius plan even I had thought about before he voiced it. I was to surprise her with Panache during her lunch break. As we started to walk over towards the car, Koala started whining and wanting me to hold her once again. Panache had to hand her off to me as she blissfully clung to my chest just like a Koala's baby would to its mother.

We piled into my father's black Porsche Cayenne. I took the front passenger seat while Panache, my mother and Koala lounged in the spacious backseat. Glancing back, I watched Panache inspect the rear of the vehicle with concentrated curiosity. Her eyes were constantly sparkling after we had exited the gate and were safely back in Japan. Just like the many makes of wagons in her world, there were just as many varieties of cars in Japan. I haven't seen her inspecting a car this closely since the HMVs (High Mobility Vehicles) back at Alnus. As she sat down in the rear leather covered and heated seat, she sighed blissfully and melted into the leather.

"So," Pops murmured as he started the hybrid Cayenne, "I see your CCW's (Concealed Carry Weapon) the 22. You liking what your old man req'ed?"

"Fired it a couple times at the range back in the Range Sierra (Special Region). You're right old man, it's pretty good. Better than the standard 220s they issue," I chuckled and patted the right side of my waist.

"Range Sierra huh? That what the Jap SF are calling it? Doesn't matter, I'll soon see it anyways," Thomas replied as I stared at him quizzically.

"What do you mean you're going to see it soon?" I asked, my old man laughing.

"Didn't the brass tell you? I'm going to be deployed over in the Special Region as eyes and ears for the United States," he replied.

"You sure you're up for the job?" I asked with concern.

"Other than my fucking back –" he started to speak to be cut by my mother.

"Language, 'Tou-san," she warned, her icy glare sending chills up both our spines.

"Suman, suman (sorry, sorry)," the old man replied waving his hand at her, "other than my _aching_ back, numb left arm and leg it's fine. I'm going to be assigned as your ODB (Operational Detachment – Bravo) commander so I'll be sitting on the Ashigara for the duration of my deployment. I've also requisitioned some extra gear that you might find useful."

"About requisitioning gear, how the hell –" I said.

"Language, Ryu!" my mother said sternly.

"How in the _world_ did you SF command to sign off on all of that?" I asked.

"A lot of smooth talking with high command, the Russians, Americans and the folks working for me at Titan," chuckled my father, "I've still got connections and plus if you've got enough cash from the government to sling around, SOFEX, IDEX, Eurosatory, you name it they'll fucking sell it to you."

"Thomas, language!"

As I reconnected with my father, the company he was working for has been heavily recruiting Japanese soldiers coming back from the Special Region. Titan Corporation were using the Japanese soldiers coming back from the Special Region as human intelligence on the region. Contractors with Special Forces backgrounds recruited from both the United States and the United Kingdom were hard at work training in the Mediterranean replicating the environment they would soon work in. Some of the contractors had gone in with the research teams and since they worked for money, they had no real affiliation with any country. Despite the back reputation of private contractors, they were the easiest to work with. Panache's eyes were glued to the window after seeing snow for what seemed to be like her first time. Much of the ride was spent discussing work with my father before there was a silence that fell in between us. I knew my father was thinking about his own impending deployment. My thoughts were spent on what should have been a vacation were filled with appointments that were made for me. A training demonstration for new candidates to the Special Forces Group, Panache's training for riding in the rear seat of the F-2B and a meeting with the Special Forces high command about the upcoming operation aimed at capturing Tyuule.

That was soon pushed out of my taxed mind as we pulled into the school's parking lot. Just an hour before lunch break, the school was silent with students studying in their class. I made sure to cover the Glock 22 with my softshell jacket. Lagging just behind Panache, I watched her spin around in amazement of the educational institution. Her curious emerald eyes peered into the first floor windows as we passed to see both male and female students bowed over their desks hard at work while some others were goofing off. As we approached the entrance of the school, we were treated to a standard Japanese entryway. Lockers lined a raised wooden platform in a traditional Japanese entryway called the genkan. I pulled off my combat boots and stepped up onto the raised floor. We passed swiftly by classrooms filled with students before arriving at a nondescript classroom. Panache glazed inside with inquisitiveness. Her eyes lit up with astonishment as I silently slid the door open to find a few desks empty at the rear.

"Go on, no one will notice," I whispered and lightly pushed her as I made eye contact with the teacher, "I know the teacher. He taught me when I was a kid at this school."

I watched as the commanding White Rose turn into a timid high school student. Her shy steps were silent as her sock covered feet touched the concrete floor. The teacher with a grey comb over smiled, recognizing an old student he had instructed decades before. A smile touched my lips to see my old teacher teaching my younger sister in a flash of déjà vu. It felt like it had only been yesterday when I was the very same scrawny student listening to his monotonous lectures. It was those very same monotonous lectures and compassionate teacher that pushed me further to join the Air Defense Force. Panache found a seat next to a girl with long dark hair and black eyes. A lock of hair hung from each sides of her face with a fringe separated from the middle. I noticed the hereditary focused press of the lips that started with my father.

It belonged to my sister – Ayase Anderson.

As she turned to see the unfamiliar foreigner, her eyes quickly noticed the open door. Her body shook in excitement as her eyes locked with mine. A bright smile appeared on her face. Her black eyes darted from the teacher to the clock on the wall and then back to me. A few of her classmates noticed the movement, looking back to investigate. I noticed that some of her friends were in the same class as her this year and they were visibly happy for her. I handed off the sleepy Koala to my father in preparation for the charging of my other sister. The teacher, Hidaka-sensei, silently gestured for Ayase to step outside of class as he started to close up the lecture with his deep, raspy voice. Ayase stood up and bowed to the teacher to thank him before turning to me. I watched her as she willfully sprinted towards the door before leaping with open arms. The bell rang just as her bony shoulder slammed into my chest. I lifted the relatively light girl up off her feet and spun her around in the hallway.

"Onii-chan!" she squealed in my ears, her voice clear over the ringing lunch time bell, "I missed you so much!"

"You mean you miss it when you force me out on shopping trips to buy you things," I snorted as I continued to lift her in midair, "and it's only been a month or two, Ayase."

While Ayase did have part-time work as a model for a young adult's magazine, she always had me splurging my savings on useless items like clothes, shoes or accessories. Although they weren't any brand name items, she still buys enough to cloth a small village. I didn't mind it. I had more than enough money saved up from frugal spending to buy her anything she wanted many times over. With my income and my dad's, we didn't have any problem regarding our finances. Behind her shoulder as Ayase continued to cling to my body, I saw a crowd slowly building around Panache. She slowly withdrew within her shell as more and more people showed up. Each question answered only made more questions pop up in their calm, orderly yet oppressive push for information. I had to place Ayase down and pull out Panache before she was overwhelmed.

"Who's the tomboy you brought with you?" Ayase asked cheerfully.

"She's my, uh, fiancée," I said nervously as Ayase's laughed.

"This is a joke, right? You're so funny nii-chan. There's no way someone my age can be your bride," my younger sister laughed, the students filing out as my parents were both stoic, "are (huh?), usodaro! (You're kidding, right?!)"

"Ayase, meet Panache Fure Kalgi, White Rose of the Order of Rose Knights. She might be the same age as you but I'm sure she's much more mature than you up here," I said tapping the side of my head with a wink.

"Hidoiyo (You're terrible!) nii-chan!" Ayase blurted out as my father and I laughed together at her reddened embarrassed face.

I spent the rest of the day with my parents and Panache. It was most important to get Panache acclimated to Japan since the week we were spending here were jammed packed with activities planned by my commanding officer, Colonel Hirata. After talking to my old teacher, I found out that he was retiring after my sister's class had graduated. He had been teaching for forty years. We pulled Ayase out of school early to have hotpot back home. It felt nice to talk with the old man once again over beers and heated floors. The day passed by quickly as daylight turned into night. My father and I were completely wasted over aged whiskey as the two of us moved into his study to talk about the military's plans.

There was one thing on my mind before I blacked out from drinking too much.

 _Ah right, I had a training demonstration tomorrow morning._


	18. Chapter 16: Kill House

Chapter 16: Kill House

"Have these carbines been zeroed?" Okuda asked, pulling back on the charging handle repeatedly.

Sergeant Major Kida shook his head.

"Nope. These damned things haven't been used for a good year. Since the Special Forces Group deployed to the Special Region. They've all taken the HK416s and HK417s with them as well so now you're left with the old Colt SOPMODs," Sergeant Major Kida grunted back and glanced over to Ige, "you going to be a problem, frogman? You sure you're not afraid of heights after living with the fishes?"

"Don't worry about it, Sergeant Major. Petty Officer 2nd Class over here used to be SFGp before he switched services. Besides," I replied with a large smile, "he's trained for a year with us, he's good. We call him by his old special forces rank for a reason."

"If you say so Captain," huffed the Sergeant Major in his usual abrasive gravely tone, "you've got fifteen minutes to zero your rifle and get your gear sorted. Wheels up in seventeen."

"Thanks," Okuda raised his hand to thank the Sergeant Major but Kida had already turned around to walked out the door, "Sergeant Major…at least Kida's still the same abrasive jerk. I hated that guy even though I was an instructor alongside him, it's like he hates the world he lives in."

"Maybe he's jealous of everyone going to the Special Region. It's like a paid vacation for most of us you know," Ishihara grunted.

"Nah. He just likes to smoke the new recruits. That's when he's the happiest – yelling and tormenting new recruits who just arrived to the company. You'll know it feels soon if you decide to try out," Okuda laughed as he stuffed his lightweight chest rig with rifle magazines and flashbangs.

"I'd give the old fart bag a run for his money," Ishihara snorted as he nonchalantly broke down his rifle into parts for oiling.

"You don't stand a chance against him Ishihara," I breathed, slamming my hands down on the shorter man's shoulders and squeezed hard, "when I entered the unit, he outran me with twice the weight on his back, he beat me in hand to hand combat and outshot me on the firing range. He's the epitome of what a Special Forces commando is – well his abilities are anyway. His sunny disposition makes him the best of instructors."

"And now?"

"Old bastard's almost fifty-eight and he can do all that and _more_. Rumor has it that both of Kida's children are in the service so that's why he's so tough. To set an example for children. Little birds chirping told me that he has a boy in the SFGp and the girl in the Maritime Self Defense Force," I replied.

The banter quickly descended into silence. Our hands moved with practiced precision. After all, we could field strip any AR15 variant rifle blindfolded. I pulled out the charging handle from the split-open upper and lower receivers. The bolt carrier fell out like a rock onto the steel table with a loud bang. Oil was applied generously to the weapon, barrel ran through with a metal brush rod and individual attachments cleaned of dust, dirt and carbon left behind by recently fired rounds. I reassembled the weapon. Pulling on the charging handle, the handle slid smoothly forwards and backwards with slight resistance – just how it should be.

All Colt M4A1s we received were extensively modified to be lightweight even with attachments bolted onto the weapon. It was an attempt to keep the old standard issued rifle relevant to its newer German cousins, the HK416 and 417s. A twelve-inch rail covered most of the heavy profiled barrel with a suppressor poking out from inside from the shortened barrel. Magpul back-up sights were affixed at the front and rear of the top rail. Attachments for the weapon were slim pickings mostly due to personally bought optics and attachments. The armory only rented them out to soldiers unable to pay for their own equipment. The simple Aimpoint CompM2 was my optic device of choice. An angled grip was added to the front end of the rifle and a vertical grip closer towards the magazine well on the bottom rail. The familiar black box was mounted just behind the back-up iron sights. The older PEQ-15 included all the bells and whistles of the PEQ-16B except for a visible floodlight. A Contour +2 bolted to the left of the Picatinny rail. To top off the light short barreled rifle, it was fitted with Knight's Armament Company's dimpled NT4 suppressor to dampen the loud muzzle blast.

It was light, portable and much easier to swing around in close quarters than my beloved Mark 17 SCAR-H.

We didn't waste any time.

Pulling on the lightweight chest rig over the plate carrier loaded with heavy ceramic plates, we jogged over to a small indoor firing range built inside JGSDF Kisarazu Air Field. Our personal OpsCore helmets were hastily donned as we pulled the loaded magazines from our pouches and slammed them into battery. A pounding migraine throbbed at the side of my heads from a hangover as loud cracks and thwacks exploded in the enclosed space, our fingers pulling the trigger as fast as they can go. We fired three brisk rounds at a time before looking up at our target to check the grouping on paper targets just fifteen meters away. Within minutes we had gone through three magazines but, our rifles were zeroed perfectly for its new point of impact.

We grabbed our harness and a portable assault pack on the way out.

Four of us exited the indoor range in a quick sprint to a waiting helicopter just a few dozen meters away.

Agile, small and speedy, the egg shaped recently upgraded Kawasaki OH-6J turned MH-6M Little Bird was one of two light special operations helicopter used exclusively by the Japanese special operations community. A loud buzzing whine from the single engine helicopter rang in my ears similar to a giant bee. Rotors blew gelid fall air all around the helipad. Strong winds swatted against us as we got closer to the helicopter, the two pilots gave me a short and quick salute. Outboard metal benches protruded from the side of the aircraft. They provided space to carry six commandos in total when filled up to capacity. I hopped onto the slabs of metal and strapped myself in. A single strap connected my battle belt to the helicopter's deck. Coiled wires hung from inside the cabin like vines in the frosty winter air. Sunlight peered through the dew frost covered grass and tops. Nipping cold bit at my exposed skin since all I wore was a baseball tee.

Snatching the cables, I plugged them into my Comtacs.

"Hawk 1, Kisarazu Tower, cleared for departure straight out from the ramp heading one five five as per-briefed training mission. Wind one eight zero for eight knots. QFE three zero zero zero." I heard the aircraft's radio buzzing with slight interference.

"Hawk 1, cleared for departure straight out heading one five five. Three zero zero zero on the altimeter. Hawk 1 out," the pilot swiftly regurgitated the information.

"You guys comfortable back there?" the co-pilot asked, turning to face us from his seat.

I gave him a thumbs-up.

"Right! In flight briefing, target's in a five story kill house in a small simulated urban area. Building's grey with a green rooftop and chain-link fence. Live rounds and live hostages. We'll infil by rooftop and exfil by the helo so make sure you grab one of the harnesses for the hostage you're extracting. Intel says that hostage is on the second floor, nothing about which room she's in," he glanced back, the sunlight glinting off of his blackened visor and lower face plate painted with an oni's open mouth, "aren't you guys underdressed for the fall? The early snow's fallen and it's going to get really cold in transit."

"We'll live," I grunted back as I switched the radio system from push to talk to voice activated.

"If you say so. Punch it, Hotshot!" the co-pilot yelled with brimming excitement.

"With pleasure," murmured the pilot.

A strong tug pulled my stomach to the ground. I felt my body was being pressed down for a brief moment. The buzzing of the engine turned into a high-pitched whine that bristled with power. I could feel the pull of the Little Bird as it shot upward into the sky like a rocket before dangerously pitching downwards to gain speed. The ground fell away at an alarming rate and the safety of dirt was no longer there. Our legs were dangling fifty feet over rooftops and trees. The MH-6 banked steeply to the right. My body was pushed back against the metal shell of the helicopter's frame as we were nearly perpendicular to the ground. The back of my knees started hurt from the immense weight of my body focused onto the feeble joints. Banking anymore to the right and I would be pulled up out of my seat and fed to the rotor blades. Wind swatted at my face and exposed skin. Cold pricked at my arms, making the hairs stand before they were completely numb only minutes into the flight. I should a worn a sweater instead of the usual dark brown baseball tee. At least my jeans and khaki combat boots were thick enough to keep out the torrent of air rushing past us. The pilots leveled the helicopter out with a snappy roll. I swear that I was suspended in mid-air momentarily from the quick maneuver before my rear made contact with the metal benches.

"Kisarazu Tower, Hawk 1, contact Kisarazu on channel six. Itte Irasshai."

There was a slight pause.

As we buzzed just above condominiums, houses and malls, my eyes could barely keep up with the zipping structures. It was like someone had turned the treadmill all the way up and that speeding rubber pad zooming by beneath our feet was the Earth. Unlike the other Japanese Ground Defense Force pilots that commandeered the standard OH-6J Cayuses and CH-47JAs, the pilots trained by the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment were a special breed of crazy. All twenty-four of them made up an elite group of helicopter pilots known aptly to the special operations community as the 'Sohei' or monk warriors like those from Feudal Japan. While they had never actually seen real combat, the men were cool, focused, loved to take risks and push their limits. I could feel the aircraft start to squirm and shake very subtly in the air. They were pushing the helicopter as fast as it would allow them. At 150 knots, the ground below became a blur of gray, green and shades of brown. We slowly ascended to higher altitude to keep in line with the noise abatement procedures set out by the government to reduce the sound generated by the aircraft engines.

"Hawk 1, Kisarazu enroute to the southeast at five hundred feet and climbing," the co-pilot briefly spoke to notify the ground controllers.

"Kisarazu, Hawk 1, squawk quadruple seven and ident. Repeat squawk seven seven seven seven," came the reply.

"Hawk 1, Kisarazu, squawk seven seven seven seven in the box and ident," the co-pilot murmured back.

"Kisarazu, Hawk 1, radar contact. Cleared to the southeast."

Our speed started to drop off as we continued to ascend higher and higher into the air. The air became thin, harder to breathe. Zipping scenery now slowly rolled behind us underneath. City buildings abruptly stopped kilometers out into the mountains. Nature took hold after the buildings stopped in the sunny morning. Trees swayed gracefully from the winds moving through the various crests and channels of the mountains. A low fog hung over the terrain like a white misty blanket as if the Earth was still sleeping in despite the quickly rising sun. My skin was numb from the even colder temperature at altitude. It felt like arctic warfare training all over again with the frigid air and swift winds rushing around me. A white mist escaped my lips only to disappear in the torrent of fast moving air.

It was cold.

"You guys are the guys who slew the Berserker at the Battle of Min Keep right?" the co-pilot asked only to be treated with silence, "come on, we're special operations too you know. Give us a little something to brag to the guys back on base. You're like rock stars in the Japanese military."

"We were never there. But, just between you and me…" I spoke into the foam resting against my lips, "yeah, that's us."

"I knew it! Now the guys back at the farm will really be jealous," exclaimed the co-pilot laughed.

"You want our autographs too?" Okuda grinned, the whites of his teeth gleaming in the rising sun.

"Just a picture will do," the co-pilot shrugged, pulling out his flip phone.

The loud snap of the phone wasn't even audible in the howling wind.

"Kisarazu, Hawk 1, change frequency to the special air controllers inside the training area," came the sudden transmission from the aircraft controller.

"Hawk 1, Kisarazu, frequency change to special air controller. Talk to you later. Hawk 1 out," the co-pilot swiftly replied before turning to us, "buckle in boys, we're dropping into NoE (Nap of the Earth). Infil time plus two mikes!"

The whining of the powerful single engine slowly turned into a growl. As the little bird pitched down, we started to rapidly lose altitude. The Killer Egg was in what was for all intents and purposes, a controlled fall. The ground rushed to meet us from the sudden drop. A smooth pitch up with the same whining engine noise slowed our descent and placed us just above the jagged mountain ridgeline. I swore that the Sohei were just as clinically insane as we were. Roaring over the jagged ridgeline, they clipped the very tops of the reddening cedar trees. Leaves swatted against my boots at speed. Thankfully, they were kicked up by the rotor wash of the helicopter and were separated from their branches otherwise I would have ended up with a nasty facture. My hand zippered the mic twice to grab the attention of my teammates. I held up my index finger and thumb to form a makeshift pistol calling for an equipment check. The four of us went through our usual rituals of pulling on straps, tapping all the metal switches and paddles before finally pulling back the charging handle just slightly to make sure our weapon was ready and hot with a glinting piece of brass chambered. Reaching back, I grabbed the ballistic goggles wrapped tightly around my front of my helmet and pulled them down for the hot insertion.

"One mike! LZ's in sight!" yelled the pilot as my head snapped to the front of the Little Bird.

Just like he said there it was.

A complex of ten buildings of varying heights, shapes and sizes dotted a small forest clearing with a bleacher-like stand just a few hundred meters back filled with cameras for commanders, instructors and peers to monitor the soldiers going through the live-firing drill. The tallest was a five-story apartment-like building shot to shit. Holes decorated the sides of the whitewashed building like a modern art painting with blackened holes from the detonations of grenades and high powered anti-material rifles. A fresh layer of virgin snow lightly covered the concrete. The roof was sparse with a few paper targets set-up for us while a meter-tall wall allowed operators to rappel downwards from the rooftop. Another snappy turn was initiated by the Sohei as I brought the M4A1 to bear. The red dot was dim against the bright sun, the MH-6M screamed around to face Okuda and I towards the rooftop. As the Little Bird slipped sideways, the fresh snow was blown from the rooftop in a flurry of white.

"Thirty seconds! We're stable!" the pilot reported.

"Cleared hot, light'em up!" screamed the co-pilot.

 _Crack, crack, crack!_

The M4A1 jerked around in my arms as I pulled the trigger as fast as the mechanical action would allow me. Hot standard ball ammunition punched through the cardboard papers in rapid fashion. Smoke started to rise from the handguard, the free floated barrel heating up from a combination of rapid firing and freezing temperatures. The dimpled suppressor was a dull red as I loaded a second magazine into the carbine. Gliding sideways, the MH-6M barely made it over the meter-high rooftop walls before quickly touching down. A screech of metal screamed from the one ton helicopter's skids impacting the damp reinforced concrete roof. Okuda and I continued firing, double tapping each of the targets even though they were riddled with holes. My left hand came off the rifle's vertical grip to pull my safety strap free from the Killer Egg's frame. I rotated my body forward to feel my combat boots slamming into concrete flooring. Glancing left and right, I checked to see the four members of my team now on the right side of the aircraft crouched. Torrents of air from the rotor blades blew dust everywhere.

I was glad to have the ballistic goggles on.

Once I was sure that my men were all accounted for, I held up my right hand curled in a thumbs-up.

A high-pitched whine of the Little Bird buzzed in my ear. Dust quickly settled as the helicopter lifted off before quickly diving down towards the ground. The nipping wind from the blades were gone. I stood up and snapped into action, waving my men towards the closed rooftop access bolted onto a square concrete structure.

"We'll pick you up in five mikes!" yelled the Sohei in my ears.

"We'll be done in three," I replied before looking at my men, "pointman up."

Ishihara automatically assumed his position by the door.

With a nod from the Airborne Brigade member, I turned my back to the door and lifted my feet. The cocked leg slammed into the wooden door with a satisfying crack. I could feel the solid material break under force giving us entry to the small rooftop access area. Ishihara was the first in. Adopting his now de facto role as pointman, the 1AB paratrooper turned special operations soldier stormed into the small room. Loud cracks from the supersonic full metal jacket ammo were even louder in the enclosed room. Ige was the next man in, his weapon crackled from the quick rapid tapping of the frogman. Then, it was my turn. I turned around and entered through the door with the M4A1 raised. There were three targets placed on cylinder blocks to keep them in place. Instead of cardboard human torsos, the targets were mannequins filled with Kevlar to absorb bullets. The inside of the room and the entire building was coated with a thick rubber padding to absorb rounds that did penetrate the mannequins so they didn't fracture and injure anyone.

My eyes and ears were alert. It wasn't because of the fact that I could shoot my men in the face with live ammunition. We had trained hard to make CQB (Close Quarters Combat) second nature, but it was because our weapons, vest and helmets had cameras transmitting live video feeds to the training bunkers and bleachers a few hundred meters away. Our radio channels were also being monitored as we communicated with each other and the Sohei piloting the Little Birds that were now orbiting a couple hundred feet above us. Each and every one of our moves were being picked apart and analyzed by the instructors while the candidates for the Special Forces Group were staring at the screen with wide eyes trying to learn from what little they could see.

As the tapping of rubber soled boots descended down the steps, we were led down to the middle of the building. Ishihara had stopped by the corner of the stairs and was backed up against the wall. His carbine was pointed away from the wall towards the hall behind me. I was leaning against the stair's railing, my weapon pointing just past Ishihara's ear and into the corridor behind him. I raised my hand. Pointing at Okuda, I waved the older soldier towards Ishihara before gesturing for Ige to follow me. The two men nodded in acknowledgement.

With a nod to Ishihara, the two of us stepped into the hall and swiftly turned around.

 _Crack, crack!_

There were two human dummies right in front of me. I squeezed the trigger twice in rapid succession. A soft tap from the M4A1 reminded me that there were actually bullets exiting the muzzle along with the supersonic report. I could no longer hear the gunfire, only my breathing, my heartbeat and the footfalls of my boots against the casing covered concrete. The second dummy shook briefly. Puffs of dust and blackened Kevlar strands shooting out of its chest and head as Ige swiftly double-tapped the target. I had run many times through this building. Endless drills of close quarter combat, hostage situations using live persons and even in deteriorated conditions with tear gas and smoke. We continued through the single corridor with rooms only on one side of the hall with the other being large windows shining sunlight through the boxy openings. Gunpowder and smoke filled the air with an acrid aftertaste in my mouth. The warmth from the building was made even balmier with four rifles kicking off hundreds of rounds as we pushed onwards.

Ige and I continued our deadly waltz.

While I peeked into each room, Ige stood just behind me and to my left covering the corridor. We advanced at a rapid pace room by room. Within a matter of a few seconds we had cleared the third floor and were moving down to the second floor filled with larger rooms. The building was reminiscent of a small Japanese school complete with eerily similar desks that littered some of the rooms we entered. The larger rooms required all of my men to be together to cover a larger area. Not only were the rooms larger, they were also locked.

"Breacher up," I ordered, tapping my helmet with my right hand curled in a fist.

Okuda trundled forward from the rear. In his giant hands was an 870 MCS (Modular Combat Shotgun) fitted with a small muzzle break device. He ran the weapon in a dry husk with rounds loaded and on fire. All he needed to do was rack the pump and fire the firearm. Holding the weapon over the hinges of the wooden door, he stood waiting for my command. I swapped out my magazines to make sure that the rifle was topped up. Ige stood behind me. He knew what he had to do as rear security. The frogman would fold in after the three of us had entered the room and maintain his firing sector into the hallway just in case the HVT was inside the room. Ishihara was the opposite of me on the other side of the door. He would swiftly enter and move left while I maneuvered right. Okuda would come soon after once he had stowed away his breaching shotgun.

"One mike," came the reminder.

Two minutes had elapsed since we had cleared the roof top and third floor.

"Go!" I hissed.

Okuda racked the pump and jerked the trigger.

 _Bang, bang! Tink! Tink! Bang!_

There was a rhythmic report of the shotgun's deafening blast. Two shells bounced with smoke rising against the floor. The last shell was kept in the chamber for safety purposes. Wood held together by three metal hinges were blasted apart from the breaching rounds as Okuda raised his right foot and smashed it into the wooden entrance. The now flat piece of splintered timber flew into the room, crashing into the ground kick dust just a few inches away from the entrance. Ishihara stormed in first. His weapon crackled with loud gunfire shortly before I walked in. On first inspection, the room was wide and the dust kicked up by the knocked down entrance obscured the room in a hazy white fog. Sunlight flickered through the thick dust from large windows boarded up with pieces of wooden planks.

We could barely see in the dim room.

"Hostage! Far side of the room!" Ishihara screamed.

My weapon swept left after I saw nothing on the right side of the room. The pressure switch quickly triggered the laser mounted on the top of the carbine. A focused beam of red shot through the fog, flickering as strands of dust crossed through the thick red line. My eyes caught the shimmering silver hair at the end of the room. Emerald eyes stared at me with fiery intensity. The White Rose's hands were tied behind her back and between her lips a black piece of cloth. Comtacs protected her ears from the snappy cracks of zipping bullets. When command had offered to show her how we fought and trained, I didn't realize that she would get the very front row seat to our soccer game.

Matter of fact, she sat in the middle of the field.

Four mannequins flanked her in close proximity. Two of the figures stood behind her, their chest just centimeters away from the top of her head. The other two only had three-quarters of their faces facing her and was rotated to face her. Three video cameras formed a half circle around the unyielding knight. It eerily resembled something a terrorist group would do in Afghanistan and Iraq. The only thing missing would be a black flag with an Arabian scimitar at the center. I couldn't falter, I couldn't hesitate. To do any of that would show weakness. There was a reason the newly established JAPSOCOM (JAPanese Special Operations COMmand) did this. Adding a live human to the mix would mess with our heads, make us think about the mistakes we could make. It had the opposite effect on me, those intense emerald green eyes only made me more focused.

I had made a promise to take care of her.

And take care of the White Rose I would.

 _Crack, crack, crack, crack!_

Four quick rounds smashed a smoking hole through the chest and heads of the rightmost dummies. I watched the red dot shake very briefly accompanied by the feel of air blasting against my face from the exhaust gases being funneled backwards from the suppressor. The gas blowback plastered my right side of the face constantly with burnt gunpowder. Through the bouncing red dot, I found out that my aim did not waver nor did it stray. Each shot was timed with the footfall of each feet making sure that the same red dot was consistently on target before I pulled the trigger. Loud footsteps signaled that Ige and Okuda had entered the room.

"Thirty seconds," came the calm voice of the helicopter pilot.

"Hostage found! Prep for exfil!" Ige reported, "hallway's still clear!"

I rushed forward, dropping my weapon and pulled out my combat knife. The metal sliced through the rope easily as I pulled out the cloth from her mouth and helped Panache up.

"That was exciting!" she squealed as her body quivered from adrenaline.

"Did I take a bit too long?" I smiled, pulling out the harness.

"Just a tiny bit," she whispered and moved towards me, I felt something soft against my cheek as she donned the harness, "my hero."

"Stop teasing me," I scowled and tapped the camera bolted to the right of my helmet, "people are watching, you know."

"Is that a…what did you call it? A camera?" she asked trying to find the right words before turning a bright red.

"Cut the love bird stuff guys. The Little Bird's almost here," Ishihara murmured.

On cue, the annoying buzz of the Killer Egg's rotor blades grew in volume. I shoved the carbine to my side and drew the Glock. My left arm wrapped around Panache's shoulder, pulling her roughly towards me. Her bony shoulder dug into the side of my rib as Okuda went from rear security to pointman. The five of us ascended the stairs with speed. Every now and then I could feel Panache lagging behind, after all there was quite the height discrepancy between the two of us. I simply lifted her up the stairs instead of waiting for her. It was much faster than just waiting for her to catch up. The buzzing was now loud in my ears, the little bird circling the rooftop to remain mobile in the case of return small arms fire. Obviously there wasn't anyone to shoot back here but, it never hurt to practice the maneuver. In addition to the two MH-6Ms the Sohei operate, four UH-60Js were being retrofitted to MH-60Ms to accommodate the refueling probe, modernized cockpit and the more powerful YT706 engines to improve hot and high performance bringing the total number of special operations commandoes the Sohei could ferry fifty-six operators to the battlefield – one assault platoon and two reconnaissance squads.

And that was just one trip.

"Susanowo, Hawk 1, skids on the ground," reported the pilot as we exited the squarish rooftop access.

"Susanowo on the roof. Proceeding with extraction," Okuda spoke for me.

Strong winds blew pieces of debris at us. I pushed Panache's head down to prevent any stray piece from going straight into her since she wasn't wearing any eye protection. Dust was kicked up once again turning the rooftop into a hazy mess of gray fog. With each step, the buffeting gales got stronger and stronger. But it wasn't long before we reached the metal benches of the MH-6M. Okuda and I hopped on, sandwiching Panache in between the two of us. I quickly buckled myself in and plugged myself into the intercom. Okuda buckled Panache in as I pulled the straps tight around her body to make sure there wasn't any pain when the Sohei went through their crazy maneuvers. As I whispered into the microphone, I glanced over to Panache to see her blank green eyes staring back. My left hand grabbed another coiled black wire from the inside of the aircraft and showed it to Panache. She grabbed the wire, blindly trying to plug it into her own headset.

"Hello?!" she screamed into the comms.

"You don't have to scream princess," the helicopter pilot replied glancing back at us, "we can hear you just fine."

"This feels strange, it's like your whispering into my ears," she mumbled.

"You'll get used to it," I replied and gave a thumbs-up to the pilots.

"We're all set back here," Ishihara reported.

"Dusting off! Holding to your seats!" screamed the pilot.

Once again, I felt the intestine pulling rapid ascent of the Little Bird. I felt Panache wrap her arms around my left limb as the pilots snapped a sharp right roll just seconds after clearing the walls of the rooftop. The buckles holding us on the benches were stretched taut, they were the only thing between life and death at 150 knots. Early winter winds nipped at my body as the helicopter turned westward. The sun was now high in the sky in all of its warming glow. Long shadows from the high hills overshadowed the entire city as a low white fog had rolled in. The city was covered in a blanket of translucent white, only the tallest buildings jutted out from the mist like a beacon. The helicopter banked shallowly southward to cross over the air field. Within minutes, we were overflying Kisarazu base from north to south. Its long runways were vacant save for the occasional V-22 Ospreys being tested for noise levels from Marine Corps Air Station Futenma. MH-60MJs were laid out in front of the hangars still undergoing retrofits. By the time we transitioned back to Range Sierra, two of the four MH-60MJs would be finished with the modifications and would be shipped to Alnus Airfield to being deployment. Both MH-6Ms would also be doing their practice runs in the Special Region's version of the Mach Loop just to the south and east of Alnus while the MH-60MJs would practice air-to-air refueling with the KC-130Rs.

"Kisarazu, Hawk 1, request IFR cancellation for VFR. Hawk 1 would like perform a low approach towards the landing zone," the co-pilot spoke on the radio as I safed my weapon.

There was a short pause before the ATC spoke again.

"Hawk 1, Kisarazu, confirm IFR cancellation. Continue squawking quadruple seven. Cleared down to five feet over the waterways for touchdown on LZ. Altitude restriction in effect until you have passed over the port government building. Once you're over watch switch to Kisarazu Tower on channel three," replied the aircraft controller.

"Quad seven on the box. Cleared down to five over the water. Restriction in effect until passed over port building. Tower on three, Hawk 1," blurted the co-pilot, after scribbling down the notes on his kneepad.

"Readback correct."

We glided through the frosty morning dew. I watched as the pilots glanced towards the ground then back up towards the horizon and then back to the ground again. Their painted face shields glimmered bright red against the rays of the sun while the gentle roaring of commercial turbofans rumbled above us. Contrails from large civilian transport aircraft streaked clearly against the blue sky. Below us, vehicles poured out of the houses like ants from an ant farm. Cars, trucks and vans of all colors, shapes and sizes filled the streets in their morning commute. I could only imagine Ayase boarding the train towards her school. I only wished that I had more time to spend with my family but the next day was packed as well. Panache was due for Misawa tomorrow evening for her pre-flight training. Two days the training would take and my father had given me permission to use his Nissan GT-R to drive her up there and back. If we were lucky, a transporting C-2 from Iruma to Misawa.

"I'd like to shoot one of those one day you know!" Panache yelled into the comms.

"I don't think you're going to be able to shoot any firearms unless, you know, you are deployed to sea with the Ashigara's Special Region Team," I replied as her face lit up with a sly smile.

"I am," she teased as I groaned.

"What else aren't you tell me?" I grumbled and glanced to see the pilot's eyes now glued on the eye below, "hold on tight."

Just as Panache's arm linked again with mine, the pilot jerked the stick left and pushed in on the left pedal sending the MH-6M into a twining left-hand spiral downwards. With helicopters, there was a strange phenomenon called retreating blade stall when a helicopter exceeds it maximum air speed, the rotors go from producing lift to not producing any lift at all. This turns the helicopters into a falling rock until the pilot intentionally pitches up or rolls to the right since American-made helicopters rotate counter-clockwise. The spiraling maneuver prevents the stall by keep the airspeed in check as the helicopter descends at a rapid pace.

Shimmering rolling waves of blue liquid rushed up to meet us in a watery death.

Just before we smashed the helicopter into pieces and became food for the fishes, the Sohei abruptly pitched up. The maneuver nearly threw us into the fast spinning rotor blades and we were this close to being fed to the rotor monster. Water was sprinkled into the air from the powerful blades, spraying freezing liquid onto our clothes. The helicopter stabilized itself just mere feet away from the surface of the sea. I could smell the salty air of the ocean as a rainbow crossed over the helicopter's windshield from the mesmerizing effect. A squeal of amazement came from behind me. Panache's mouth was wide open in awe, her eyes closing as she felt the cold sea water splash against her face. The water beneath rippled away from us forming a small little basin of fluid where the helicopter's downward thrust kept us in a steady hover. Specks of shining diamonds hung in the air, shimmering with a prismatic sheen.

It was just a brief two seconds before we pitched forward and accelerated out of the misty cloud of water.

Droplets of shimmering water turned into icicles that struck my body like small pins of ice. We rose out of the mist and turned hard towards the dry land, barely missing the barbwire fence set up to keep out unauthorized visitors. The Little Bird swerved in the air kicking up grass, dirt and dust before we flew over concrete at speed. Turning to land, we came to a skidding stop beside two retrofitted MH-60MJs with their crew sprawled out around the aircraft. Tri-colored MH-60MJs were held in place by chocks and yellow safety sleeves slipped over the blade tips with crew carefully inspecting, working on and cleaning the helicopter. Screeching from metal skidding against asphalt signaled that we had landed in addition to the pilot's announcement.

"We're feet dry, with boots on the ground. Please make sure you take all trash with as you exit the aircraft. Thanks for flying Sohei Air," the pilot announced as they powered down the MH-6M.

"It was an honor flying with you guys," I thanked the pilots, slamming my fist against the side of the Little Bird's frame.

"Honor's all ours Susanowo!" the pilot yelled out and held out a fist from his seat.

I tapped the Sohei's out stretched fist with my own.

As the engines wined down, I unbuckled and disconnected myself from the aircraft. Panache was quick learner as she quickly reversed everything I had taught her and hopped off. We returned our equipment to the quartermaster, briefly cleaned it. Sergeant Major Kida entered the room with his usual puffed up chest and head held high. It seemed like I was a cadet back in selection for the SFGp and any second now the Sergeant Major was going to smoke me. But it was the opposite.

"Good work out there lads," he spoke, each word as abrasive as the last but a praise nonetheless before he strode out just as arrogantly, "you too frogman. You're okay in my books."

"See, I've got the Sergeant Major's approval," sneered Ige.

We quickly strode to the operations room at the heart of Kisarazu air base's headquarters. Inside the ops room was a wall of television screens where our run of the kill house was being played almost on repeat from our weapons cams to our helmet cams. At first, everything went great. We were working as a well-oiled machine covering each other's backs and moving forward as a unit. Until the part where Panache give me a kiss on my cheek and whispered into my ears before turning a bright red. _That_ turned _me_ a bright red in front of the generals, colonels and half-bird colonels gathered around the monitors. Panache was oblivious to her surroundings as her eyes were glued to the screen while the female staff members snickered and giggled. The male members on the other hand downright booed me. Embarrassment wasn't something that I felt on a frequent basis. Being with Panache made it a more occasional thing. After the jeering, had calmed down, we were properly debriefed by the training instructors before we were sent back home.

"Were you afraid?" I asked Panache as I slipped inside my father's Nissan GT-R.

"Of course, I was!" I she glowered at me for a few moments, "but I trusted you and I was right. You didn't kill me."

"Just another normal day in the office," I grunted and reached over, pulling the seatbelt over Panache's torso and buckling her in.


	19. Chapter 17: On New Wings

Chapter 17: On New Wings

Misawa was a place you could describe as beautiful. During the fall, fresh snow had fallen on the ground turning the once green trees orange, red and yellow. The C-2 we were meant to take was diverted back to Gifu air field for an emergency transport. Unknown cargo was to be loaded onto the aircraft before being transported over to the Special Region. I'm sure that the equipment in mind was most likely to deal with the modernization of the aging aircraft fleet stationed at Alnus. The F-4J Kais were being transferred to Alnus in the wake of the Japanese F-35A's arrival. The F-2As and F-2Bs stationed at Misawa were being moved to Alnus to provide much needed close air to ground support but with the revival of the F-2 Super Kai program, a plethora of upgrades were underway beginning with the oldest airframe in each unit to make the 90s manufactured Viper Zeros relevant again.

Sitting at the front of the airport during the morning, I had ditched my father's car at Fuchu and taken one of the Kawasaki C-1s from the air station to Misawa. An ecstatic Hirata Yuki had answered my call. She was on her way from her house to pick us up. Her house was big enough for Panache and I to stay in. Today was Panache's pre-flight training where she would go through all the tests that I went through to pass fighter school. Physical examinations, high altitude training, g-force familiarization and a whole other swath of tests. I had been hit in the face after I had talk to the squadron commander, good old full bird Colonel Sago Kyoichi also lovingly known as Zapper was the one who approved the entire procedure when my name had popped up across his desk. It was a slap to the face when he even approved me to be Panache's chauffer knowing that my injury had stop me from flying if I placed g-limiters on my aircraft to prevent myself from reopening the wound.

I would go through the same batch of tests that Panache would go through.

A kind of bonding experience to test out our new relationship…or so I thought.

"Ryuuu~!" squealed a high-pitched voice.

Clothed in a white winter jacket, jeans and brownish fall leather boots, my former radar intercept officer skipped happily from the side of the street and jumped into my arms. She was heavier than both of my sisters but she was a grown woman. Twirling her around, I decided to tease Panache just a little bit and kissed the RIO on both sides of the cheek. There was a tiny twitch from the corner of my mouth as it turned into a sly smirk seeing the White Roses' brow trembling with exasperation.

"Yuki, you get heavier?" I teased.

There was a smack on my shoulder, a tap from her hefty fist.

"You're not doing too bad yourself," she murmured, "the army put a couple kilograms of muscle onto your frail body?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. What do I look extra dashing now?" I laughed before turning around to reveal the fuming Panache behind me, "this is Panache. Fure Kalgi, I guess I've been spoken for."

"Me too as well…" Hirata whispered before raising her left hand to show me a platinum ring on her ring finger, "…a lot has changed in four years since you were gone."

"I'm sure it has," I sighed and gently my former flight partner down.

"Kaa-san!" came a small voice from behind her, "it's almost lunch time. Papa's waiting!"

"That who I think it is?" I asked.

"The one and only daughter of mine, Kana-chan. She went over to your parent's house a couple times while you were away to play with Tsumugi. I think your parents consider me as one of their daughters now. I even made you her godfather but…never really got a chance to tell you about it since you were all doom and gloom," she grinned as I reached out my hand and rustled her short bob, "hey!"

"You see my parents more than you see your own. Come on, your daughter's getting hungry," I laughed, pushing her towards her tiny hatchback before turning back to grab our bags.

Panache had her arms crossed over her chest. Puffed up squirrel cheeks stared back at me, lips pouting and eyes filled with adorable fury. I knew that she had a tendency to tease people. It was firsthand experience when she had prodded the venerable Kazuki into a bumbling reddened mess while he was with his favorite maid at the Jade Palace. Even though she took her duties seriously and was usually serious with her knights and squires, she was extraordinarily mischievous and goofy around my team and I even going as far as to whisper into Sanada's ear that Myuute might have a thing for him. Whether that was true or not was yet to unfold.

Seeing her being on the receiving end for once was – refreshing, much to her dismay.

"You know it's not funny," Panache grumbled through pursed lips as I wrapped my arm around her waist and lifted her off the ground.

"If you're not going to get into the car, I'll make you. Yuki's daughter is hungry you know," I grinned soliciting a surprised yelp from the White Rose.

The next few minutes was just me placing Panache next to Yuki on the passenger side of the seat. My former RIO had firmly denied me the front seat knowing that I would barely fit in the rear seat next to her daughter. Our bags easily fit in the rear of the hatchback. Years of packing for travel every few days had made everything fit in my military-issued sea bag. Panache traveled light, she didn't have many clothes from the Special Region and she didn't wear make-up. Most of her clothes were borrowed from Ayase. I had promised to take both of them shopping after the flight training had been completed.

My shoulders were hunched over sitting next to a sparkling wide eyed four-year-old girl in a booster seat. Kana was the opposite of Tsumugi. She was quiet, barely spoke and intently stared at me with curiosity. My eyes glanced over to her every so often to see her eyes intently staring back at me. I smiled to see her close her mouth and turn away to face out the window. So much to being a fun godfather. Scowling, I turned my attention back to the two girls at the front of the car. While we were driving the two women talked to each other and gossiped like I wasn't even there. A sigh slipped out unconsciously from under my breath as I turned to gaze out the window just like Kana change was doing. The old buildings of yore most built from bricks and wood were now being replaced by more modern looking buildings. Black and beige two story buildings dominated the streets in place of old whitish orange homes. More convenience stores had opened up in the city but it still gave off the atmosphere of a quite rural town. While the city served as the region's industrial and economic center, agriculture and commercial fishing were still a large part of the town's identity. Strangely enough, I could count the numbers of elementary schools with just two hands.

There were only seven of them in the city.

"Here we are," Yuki announced, it wasn't even ten minutes before we pulled up next to a semi-deserted street.

"And where is here, exactly?" I asked as we got out of the car.

"Yamada Katsuya," Yuki said excitedly, "remember our favorite Katsudon place? Well the old man that runs the shop handed it off to his son just five or six years ago, that's where we met and I got hitched a year or two afterwards. I was about to break the news to you but…you know, the accident happened."

"I can't blame you there," I sighed and grabbed Panache's luggage along with mine, "I was in a pretty rough spot."

Panache went on ahead with Yuki and her daughter.

As I lugged the package inside the restaurant/house hybrid, I slid open the door to find a packed house. Familiar and unfamiliar faces turned to look at me in their green flight suits. Samurai kabutos adorned their unit patches with the words 3rd Air Wing written above and below the ancient helmet. Faces once spotless with excitement now had touches of wrinkles, grayed hairs and jaded eyes. Others were faces I did not know, but I could tell they were still filled with excitement and youth. They were the men and women of the 3rd Air Wing. Most had flown with me while the newer pilots had filled in the shoes of those that retired. Among the crowd at the very end of the restaurant was Zapper himself, the commander of the air wing. A giant roar from the pilots in the room welcomed me back to the town.

The ensuing night was spent drinking with old friends and making new ones. Panache was whisked away by the women into the upper rooms of the house area of the restaurant. I got to know Yuki's husband Sato Yamada while we drank only to see a shy Panache pushed out with light make-up on her face. After a lot of cheering from the drunken men, the women too started drinking and chatting with us. Kana was upstairs with her grandmother and grandfather safely tucked in and sleeping by the time we had called it a night or more accurately, an evening. Zapper had reminded me in his drunken stupor not to be late before stumbling out from the restaurant yelling with his subordinates the lyrics to Inoue Yosui's Kasa Ga Nai (I have no umbrella). Red faced Yuki was dragged by her husband who was questionably as drunk underneath a small kotasu before dosing off in the downstairs living room. Panache had drunken most of what she was poured. A combination of beer, sake and awamori had sent the lightweight drinker into a drunken coma early on in the night. She had used my laps as her pillow while I continued to drink sitting cross legged on the tatami matting. I had fallen asleep curled next to her downstairs in Yuki's living room as well.

Early the next morning, I had woken up with a minor hangover.

Panache was worse off with an actual hangover. She kept asking me repeatedly to close the blinds or stop moving so loudly despite the three of us tip toing around her. A cold shower, big breakfast and a bottle of Pocari Sweat later, I was once again hunched over the back of Yuki's hatchback back to Misawa Air Force Base. The White Rose sored loudly from the front seat while I sat at a weird position with my legs laid out over the backseat in an attempt to relieve the crushing pressure on my shoulders from the hunch. Formerly whitish pink leaves had turned a vivid red as we entered the air base. The signature lone cheery blossom tree at the entrance had changed colors from white to red. We were dropped off at the headquarters building with a cheerful good bye from Yuki before she sped off to start her own job as a radar intercept officer.

At this point, Panache and I were separated.

While Panache was off doing her own series of test which focused much more on physical fitness and endurance, I was ushered through a much more rigorous mental check. Everything I had learned in two years to even step foot on the aircraft was being reviewed. Procedures, checklists, theory and radio procedures were all condensed into a mind numbing eight-hour testing period with various instructors from the air wing itself taking their turn in beating a previously dead horse. Then it was the doctors telling me how I can't pull nine Gs for more than few seconds unless I wanted to risk the fracture occurring again or worse. But, being confined to a four-walled room with nothing but a desk, a light, a single whiteboard and no windows for eight hours was not fun but neither was selection for the Special Forces Group. The thought of jumping back into the metal tub surrounding by the powerful roaring engine of the F-2 was more than enough to motivate me. After eight hours of grueling testing, I was drained. Shaking legs quivered with no strength as I walked out towards the canteen to see Panache crowded by pilots, ground crew and staff alike questioning her about the Special Region.

"Ryu, Ryu!" she called me over excitedly as her new friends said farewell upon seeing me enter the room, "did you hear we were going to fly tomorrow?"

"Hrmm," I groaned with my eyes closed.

"I think the instructor said we were flying on the…su-ree four? Three four?"

"The Dolphin? You mean the T-4, right?" I asked, burying my head in my arms on the table.

"That's the one," she replied, "I'm so excited."

"But that's just a training aircraft," I groaned and lifted up my head to look at her.

"Still!" she exclaimed.

"Major Anderson, it's time for your suit and mask fitting," called an instructor.

"I'll be back," I groaned, placing a hand on my back to stretch it as I got up.

Just hours later a day would soon pass.

0500 Hours – Wednesday.

In the darkened cockpit of a multi-role fighter, all I could hear was my breathing and the rustling of wind. A single flake of snow drifted, tumbling end over end to kiss the warmed Plexiglas of the jet's canopy before melting away in a drop of water against the curved acrylic. Loud screeches from a commercial airline shattered the silence as it roared down the runway. Lights illuminated the dark slippery pavement ahead of the giant passenger aircraft. Flickering lights of red, white and green casted glows against the striped blue and white. The letters ANA was painted across the front fuselage of the airliner as two powerful engines lifted the Boeing from the tarmac and carried it into the sky subtly shaking the frame of my own metal tub. A tightness gripped the troubled leg, my eyes glanced down to the cloth brace pressing tightly on my left leg for safety. In the well-lit parking area for the air self-defense force, I ran my hands through the entire cockpit as if I was stroking the airplane like a horse in an attempt to make it familiar with me.

A frosty breath escaped my lips.

"Alright…" I sighed, "here we go, girl."

I raised my left hand, index finger and middle finger extended briefly for the crew chief in front of me to signal the start of the APU (Auxiliary Power Unit). He mirrored the gesture with his right hand. With the flick of a switch, I briefly waited for the APU to spool up. A low whine shot in my ear from the starting turboshaft. A growl shook the aircraft, vibrating the metal skin. I glanced back to see the drooped rear blue tailerons slowly rising up into its standard horizontal position as the flaps on the aircraft's wings raise drop for takeoff. Hydraulics were kicking in. The whine slowly got louder and higher in pitch before stabilizing in a whistling wine. Eyes darted back to the gauges on the right of the dashboard to find the engine RPM at twenty percent. My left hand lifted the throttle, sliding it forward to hear and feel a muted clunk. The APU screeched with fuel being fed into the slow turning main turbofan. An explosive reaction contained within the aircraft sent the turbofan spinning faster and faster, the screeching whine of the jet fuel starter being quickly over taken by the actual engine's roar.

I was the director to a very complicated mechanical orchestra.

The aircraft itself was coming alive with each flick of the switch as green and red collision lights flickered in the bright fluorescent bathed tarmac.

A loud whirl buzzed in my ear.

My eyes flicked upwards to watch the three-piece enclosure pressed itself shut, hydraulics pushing the Plexiglas down and forward for an air-tight fit. Just like that, the loud thundering engine was muted was tamed. As the engine settled at its operating speed, I flicked the electrics switch from battery to power. An inaudible hum buzzed in my ear for a brief moment as the avionics flickered on. My mind ran through the checklist with lightning fast precision. I had started up the aircraft many a time and doing it once again was like learning to breathe – it came easily. Navigation alignment, radar built-in test, uploading flight data from the data cartridge, ejection seat arming, my hands were a blur around the cockpit flicking switches and pressing buttons to ready the aircraft for flight. I was so occupied by the preparation I had forgotten one thing as the air inside the cockpit became a little harder than usual to breathe. The frigid dawn autumn air was quickly heated inside by the avionics and body temperature. I pulled on Nomex flight gloves and twisted the cockpit a/c knob. White clouds of water vapor poured from vents behind the dashboard into the warm cockpit, cooling it down to outside air temperature.

It was like a mister on crack.

It didn't last long as the air quickly chilled.

The jet fuel starter was switched off with the main engine at full power. BIT Tests (Built-In Tests) were run and the navigation alignment complete. And with ATIS (Automated Terminal Information Service) information obtained, I glanced down at the small fault display on the lower right corner of the aircraft.

No lights, that was good.

I reached up to a small tumor like protrusion on the helmet. The JHMCS (Joint Helmet-Mounted Cueing System) was one of the many upgrades retrofitted onto the aging F-2A/Bs to make it relevant again. Sitting the F-2C or the Viper Zero Kai, I was alone without a radar intercept officer like Hirata to accompany me in the newly upgraded aircraft. The Zero Kai was only one of four aircraft upgraded to the new standard. Zapper was flying the second of four upgraded single-seat variant with Hirata and her partner flying the only upgraded two-seater. I was flight lead for the short hop from Misawa to Tsuiki and back. It was a little tour for the White Rose to show her Japan from the air and it was a little R&R for the pilots confined to the cold of Misawa Airbase. There was some hesitation as I ran through the checklist for the new upgrades. A small bulb protruding from the front right of aircraft was alien to my eyes. The AN/AAQ-32 IFTS (Internal FLIR Targeting System) provided passive targeting capability and navigational aids at night during adverse conditions. In the Special Region where most of the fly was done either by the age-old method of compass and maps or by Mark I eyeball, it was an invaluable tool allowing pilots to fly anywhere and at any time cutting through weather with infrared sensors.

"Samurai 11, radio check," I murmured into the oxygen mask.

"Two, loud and clear," came the Dolphin's pilot.

"Three," Zapper replied.

"Four," Hirata's voice was clear through the comms as her pilot was busy readying the aircraft.

Time seemed to drone on as I waited for the navigation systems to align. Leaning back, I placed both of my arms on the canopy sill. The flight controls check was done to the cheerful voice of a senior crew chief during the start-up process. I closed my eyes. Through my boots, back and arms I could feel the humming of the engine rumbling through the entire frame of the aircraft. There was a warmth from the enclosed cockpit as fresh air was forced into my lungs. A sense of familiarity ran through my body, I felt safe and secure in the metal tub. Opening my eyes again, I glanced left to see Panache's focused on her kneepad documents. Her helmet had hidden her white hair. With her mask off, I could see her murmuring to herself while running through her own parts of the checklist. While she was mostly a passenger, Panache still had the duty of being a second pilot in case anything went wrong. Basics were taught to her the day prior. My attention returned to the reassuring exchange between airliners and air controllers was a lullaby to me. It was something that was sorely missed by me transitioning to ground operations.

Flashing drew my eyes to the small upper right dashboard display.

NAV RDY, NAY RDY, NAV RDY, it flickered.

"One, ready for flight. Status check," I ordered, switching the navigation systems from align to on.

"Two, ready."

"Three."

"Four," came the quick replies of affirmation.

Making eye contact with the crew chief, I lifted both hands in the air with still balled fists touching them briefly before pulling them apart. The crew chief repeated the signal as he stepped to the left, pulling his intercom wire and rolling it back up. My helmeted head turned left and right to see the two other crew members carrying the chocks from all three landing gears, jogging from underneath the aircraft. With hands behind his back, the crew chief stood stoically to the left of the jet. I looked to the left to the grey painted Kawasaki T-4 training jet and gave both Panache and her pilot a thumbs-up. Panache's eyes curled into a half moon. She smiled before strapping the oxygen mask on her face and giving me a thumbs-up with both of her hands in elation.

The red scratched kabuto shined in the rearview mirror of the jet. Zapper had kept my old helmet. Since he wasn't able to find a good time to return it or give it to me as a parting gift, it had been in his own locker for the last four years. Breaking it out now seemed fitting, said the now squadron leader of the 3rd Air Wing. As we prepared to depart, I gave the crew chief a thumbs-up to begin his marshalling. A safety vested crew chief raised both of his hands. Flashing orange lights gestured at me to taxi forward, following the yellow painted lines on the asphalt. I placed my right hand on the dashboard and eased the throttle forward to feel it slide with oiled mechanical fluidity. Constant whining from the single engine increased to a dull roar as the Viper Zero crept forward just a few inches before I stamped on the rudder pedals to bring the aircraft to a jerky halt.

"Brake check, good," I murmured, eyes glued to the directions of the crew chief.

He continued waving the light sticks without hesitation to my sudden movement. With each centimeter, he stepped backwards making way for the twelve-ton aircraft. A wave of the crew chief's sticks directed me right towards the runway while I busily coordinated with the air traffic controller for clearance for the flight to Southern Japan. As the F-2C completed the turn, I turned left to the crew chief and gave him a left handed snappy salute before curling my hands to form bull horns with my pinky and thumb. He smiled and returned the gesture, his body shadowed from high-intensity lights of the approaching aircraft.

"Samurai 11, cleared to Tsuiki via IFR. Hold short runway two-eight. Contact Misawa tower on channel one-three," came the controller.

"Cleared to Tsuiki via IFR, hold short on two-eight on one-three. Samurai 11," I replied.

Wings flexed freely in the darkened night. The Viper Zero was mounted with nothing more than the standard two short air-to-air missiles and four medium range air-to-air missiles unlike the Dolphin trundling behind me. With the improvements, the C modernized variant was able to carry two more weapon stores. Two protruding squarish bulges hugged the enlarged spine of the aircraft's fuselage were conformal fuel tanks to extend combat range and free up weapon stations for other stores. Unlike the American F-16s supported by a fleet of tankers, Japanese F-2s don't have the same luxury. While the F-2s could be sortied and cover the entirety of Japan, it was not feasible in for enormous Eurasia-sized Falmart. The true justification was increasing offensive and defensive capability against its overstepping neighbors. New integrated avionics pods and larger touch screen displays made the aircraft much more exciting to fly than I had anticipated.

I swear I caught a whiff of that new car smell with my mask off.

Bobbing up and down, it was a long few minutes before we reached a larger section of the taxiway. A large swath of concrete next to the taxiway was placed for waiting aircraft to line up in sequence for takeoff during large amounts of launches or for aircraft on stand-by for scramble. The aircraft paused just behind a dotted yellow and black line, men standing just a few meters away rushed up to inspect the jets before their sprint down the runway. I watched the inspectors slide down the aircraft pushing, pulling and closely eying everything from making sure no red pins were left inside to panels that were left unclosed. This strip of the taxiway was known as 'the point of no return' anything after this and pilots would be on their own to solve them and bring the aircraft down safely.

During combat conditions, there would be no such luxury.

Two aircraft were inspected at a time by four inspectors. Bright orange vested veterans of numerous years slid out from underneath of the aircraft once they were done, giving us a sloppy salute and a wave before moving to the next aircraft. I replied with a lazy acknowledgement while we waited for the air traffic controller's clearance for takeoff. As the aircraft beeped from the constant pings from Misawa's tracking radar, another giant lumbered onto the taxiway just in front of us. While the military aircraft were serviced and maintained on one side of the air base, civilian airliners were based on the other side. Blinding lights and screaming twin turbofans blasted mists of still water from the grass to the sides of the runway. There was a pause. A short moment of relief as the 737 lined up for takeoff before the screaming twin engines were pushed to full power. Mists of disturbed water turned into a torrential blast of speeding moisture. The 737 inched forward just briefly before sprinting down the runway. Moments later, the airliner pitched up into the dawning sky leaving an invisible wave of troubled turbulence behind it. I grunted from being too stiff throughout the procedure. There was nervous tingle in my stomach as I leaned forward to rest my arms on the cockpit dashboard and hug the HUD display.

"Samurai Flight, stand by for line-up. Two-minute separation for wake turbulence," warned the controller.

"Misawa tower. Two-minute separation, Samurai," I replied, reaching down and pressing the push-to-talk.

"You getting restless, Kitsune?" Zapper asked with a small chuckle.

"Hell yes, I haven't flown in four years. Of course I'd be restless," I mumbled back, "this just feels…surreal. Feels like a dream right now."

"Make sure to pinch yourself before taking off and not during it," Kaze teased as I glanced down at the displays to reconfirm out flight route.

"White Rose, you still doing okay?" Panache's pilot, Boomer, asked.

Boomer was a Lieutenant Colonel in charge of flight training transitions from the Kawasaki T-4 to the Mitsubishi F-2Bs. He got his nickname during the B-Course graduation flight in his F-2A where he accidentally broke the sound barrier over a small town in southern Japan, breaking all the windows in the village. A complaint was shortly filed their after to the air self-defense force and his nickname Boomer stuck throughout his career. He had flown everything in the JASDF's fighter inventory from F-4J Kai Phantoms to the F-15DJ Eagles used to train other pilots to be proficient in the art of dogfighting known as the Samurai Drivers. Now he was getting ready for retirement at the age of forty-two grooming the next generation of pilots that would sit in the F-35As.

"Having air forced into me takes a bit to get used to…other than that, I'm excited," she spoke with confidence.

"Samurai, line up on ni-hachi (two-eight), cleared for takeoff. Altimeter three zero one eight, wind zero one zero at three one four. Squawk seven triple zero and contact departure on channel one-four. Turn right after departure for zero four five gokigen yo, (Have a good journey.)" the air traffic controller instructed just moments after Panache's reply.

"Cleared for takeoff. Three zero one eight, seven triple zero on the box. Samurai, itte rashai," I regurgitated the reply, tapping the assigned transponder code into the touchscreen control panel with my right hand while pushing up the throttle with the other.

A loud whistling and roar was the single engine's response. Lining up the F-2C on the right side of runway, I stamped on the toe brakes hard to make sure they were working one last time. A shaking bobbed front of the jet up and down from the brake check. Chills ran up my spine as I wiped the control surfaces. This was it. This was the moment I had been waiting for after that accident. Looking back, I watched blurred shapes flapping up and down at each jerk of the stick. The unfamiliar sight of the CFTs bulging from the aircraft's fuselage caught me of guard.

I forget they were even there in the first place.

Bright white lights from behind lit up the other side of the runway and blinded me for a few seconds. I turned around to see the rounded shape of the T-4 Dolphin sliding up just rear of me. Boomer's wrinkled face and world-weary eyes were laser focused on my aircraft. Panache's eyes glanced down at her instruments before looking up at me. Once she realized I was looking at her, her emerald eyes turned into happy little half-moons. The glow of orange from the interior lighting of aircraft only lit up her front. I waved my hand and nodded in acknowledgement before returning my attention to the darkened runway in front of me.

Small dots of light ran up and down the asphalt with each yellow line marking the edges and centerline. At the very end of the paved strip was a line of red denoting the end of asphalt and the start of concrete. The sky glimmered with a soft red. Darkened blurs of black smothered the reddening atmosphere. Stars were no longer visible except for the curved shape of the moon far above me. The thick knitted blanket of black was being pulled away by the coming dawn. I took a deep breath, feeling the air rushing into my lungs. This was the moment I had yearned so much for ever since that fateful accident. Not only was I back flying again but it was on the new wings of the F-2 Super Kai.

Raising my head, I lowered it until my chin had hit my chest in a swift nod.

A loud thunderous roar filled my ears.

The throttle slammed forward into afterburner. Bouncing up and down, the aircraft slowly inched forward from a crawl into a sprinting run. My eyes darted from the front of my aircraft to the instruments to make sure I was still flying straight. A brisk crosswind could be felt pushing the fighter jet slightly left. I turned off the nose wheel steering system used to assist with slow ground movement and pushed my right heel into the pedals. The slight waver right was instantly corrected, my left digits moving down to the cueing system's brightness knob and cranked it all the way to the right. Green aircraft symbology and its heads-up display were shown directly on the transparent glass visor just centimeters from my face. The previously dimmed projection was now was eye catching bright.

Our speed continued to tick up rapidly.

One hundred twenty, one hundred fifty, one hundred and eighty.

The aircraft shuddered. It felt like the jet was going to tear itself apart and the durable tires were going to pop. A slight wiggle wobbled the aircraft towards the sky. The nose naturally rose just a few degrees upwards from the rushing flow of air beneath me. I pulled ever so slightly back on the side stick. With a twitch of the tailerons the F-2C hopped into the sky, feeling the wind beneath its metal wings. There was a sensation of weightlessness and the feeling of my stomach falling. The shuddering stopped and the Earth started to fall away from under the metal bird. A brief shaking rumbled across the aircraft. Wing tip vortices started shedding from the missiles bolted onto the wingtip hard points, wisps of whitish air trailing behind the aircraft and into the darkness as we continued to speed up like a rocket.

Throbbing filled my legs with aching as I yanked the stick back. The weight pushed my body down. Even if it was just a mild maneuver, I could feel the strain on my previous fracture. My worries and troubles seemed to disappear as I continued to climb. Solitude encased me in the single-seat fighter. I was all alone staring up at a sky that was turning crimson with each passing second. Darkness in the midst of a chase by the coming rising sun. Closing my eyes, I could feel the aircraft talking to me. Rumbling, shaking, whistling, roaring harmonized with my soul. Basking in the warmth of the yellow star, my eyes snapped open. Clouds drifted by as I floated through the air.

A soft pressure on the stick right and the aircraft rolled smoothly above the clouds. My body was squished up against the side of the cockpit overlooking the early morning city of Misawa. Lights slowly flickered out from the coming day. Cars started to fill the street like little black ants from squarish houses and abodes. The aircraft drifted downwards its nose pointing at the horizon. A little pressure on the left rudder along with a soft pull gently turned the aircraft northward.

I circled around towards the sea at the eastern coast.

A greyish cylinder with wings appeared just rear and to the left of me. Leveling off, I pulled back the power on the throttle to wait for Zapper and Kaze to catch up to us. Mere seconds would pass before the four of our aircraft would be cruising down towards the southwest of Japan. At this point, the sun had risen above the horizon in what would be a three-hour flight. We were in a loose formation with each aircraft kicked out five hundred feet from each other for spacing. I could still see each of them but we were loose enough with room to maneuver. Glancing back, I raised my left index finger and waved forward at the Dolphin pilot. A blur of green from his gloved hand behind the reflective canopy was the reply.

We switched positions as I let Boomer take the lead of the flight.

A whine escaped from the aircraft. Creeping backwards and down, I tugged the stick gently left to feel my body moving with the aircraft. It was strange to see the symbology of the HUD usually locked in place inside a piece of glass now floating centimeters in front of my face wherever I looked. There was a whole other level of situational awareness from the projected images on my helmet allowing me to fine-tune my flight, keep track of my heading, speed and altitude. Overall, it was a plethora of quality of life upgrades for the pilot. No longer did I have to fly by feel or constantly look inside and outside the cockpit. It made it safe to fly in degraded conditions where all you could see were the flickering of green and red anti-collision lights from friendly aircraft.

"Smoooooooth," Zapper breathed, his whistle warped and garbled slightly from the radio communications as he flew from his position off the Dolphin's right wing, "looks like all that time grounded to the mud with the GSDF didn't take away from your flying skills."

"Just like riding a bike Zapper," I laughed.

After all, flying had become second nature just like shooting had.

"Glad to see you're handling the jet better than when you were actually flying," quipped Kaze, "and not ham fist it like usual."

"He's a man of finesse now Kaze don't you remember? Special Forces take special care in not being known…well until the battle of Min Keep anyway. What happened to quiet professionals?" Kaze's pilot, SHAG (short for Social Hand Grenade), laughed from his position at the very rear and right of the formation.

"Psyops (Psychological operations) I tell you! Psyops!" I yelled out my excuse on the comms.

"Hey Rose," Boomer called, "you want to fly this for a little bit?"

"C-Can I?!" she stammered excitedly.

"Yeah, just keep her pointed straight at our current heading and your boyfriend will do all the work maneuvering underneath us," Boomer faked a yawned as he gestured for me to cross underneath.

"Lazy bastard," I grunted behind my mask without pressing the push-to-talk.

Pushing down on the stick and left with a little pressure on the pedals, I crossed underneath the Dolphin's fuselage. Our four jets were producing thick voluminous contrails of white behind our aircraft from the high altitude. They extended for kilometers uninterrupted before dissipating into thin air. Fuel efficiency was key for the three multi-role and fuel hungry F-2C/Ds even with the conformal fuel tank upgrades. Up here at thirty – five thousand feet there was nothing as far as the eye could see except for the lines of white from airliners ferrying passengers from all across the world. Up here and far above the world, we were free from the shackles of the ground and all the responsibilities that it entails.

Panache was now one of us.

Helmeted and masked, she looked just like another pilot. Her white ponytailed hair was poking out of the small helmet. Well was one of us until she pulled out the phone I had bought for her from her helmet bag after asking Boomer to talk the controls once again for a brief while. Her hands pulled up the blackened visor to reveal sparkling jade eyes peering through the digital display. I'm sure she was going to take a picture to commemorate the life changing flight in addition to the gloating of her experience to her fellow knights. Usually I would tell her to knock it off, but this was a time for bliss and happiness not rules and regulations. Easing the Viper Zero left to create some space, I placed my hands together with thumbs touching at the bottom and four other fingers pressed together to form a visible heart.

As she took a couple of pictures, her eyes smiled at me and repeated the same gestured back to me.

We both soared through the skies – on newfound wings.


	20. Chapter 18: Party Crashers

AN: As some of you might have noticed, the story has gone on a long hiatus. That's because life finds a way to throw a wrench in my plans to continue writing. After much debate in my head between just dropping the story and continuing to publish, I'd clearly chosen the latter. While it was on it's long hiatus, I've continued to work on in bits and pieces and constantly rewrite chapters. While it might not be in the best of states, it's better being shared in one capacity or another than having the story locked away in my head and decaying in it's small space in a brain that's now crammed with knowledge for my current line of work. The story won't be updated as frequently but I will be trying to keep a monthly release schedule as there is quite a large backlog of chapters now in place. I hope those that do stop by for a read it enjoy it and those that have been reading it continue to enjoy it.

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Chapter 18: Party Crashers

Sweet scents assaulted my nose making it crinkle from the thick aroma. Bright colors were everywhere, on the walls, clothes, even the floor tiles. Neon green, bright red and blinding yellow stabbed my eyes. It was even worse than pepper spray to the face or breathing in tear gas. I wanted to just retch my lunch all over the ground. Maybe I was over exaggerating, I didn't know. What I did know was that we didn't fit in. I wasn't the age or even in the same mental ball park the 'Millennials' were. It was alien with their clothing preferences, smartphones and slang that was similar to military jargon but equally far from it with their own gibberish mixed in.

Flanking me were two of the teammates I trusted with my life – Sanada and Sawada. We were completely out of our elements, well, maybe except for Sanada. The fresh faced twenty-one-year-old Sergeant looked right at home with his standard military trousers, combat boots and a hoodie covering his freshly shaven head with lines etched into the side of his scalp. Sawada dressed in his casual jeans, sneakers, anime tee-shirt and a fanny pack. A simple baseball cap adorned with the words Pokemon and some orangish dragon with a flame on its tail hide his still damped frazzled jet black hair.

We could not be more contrasting from each other as we hovered around just outside the shop while tween girls giggled, snickered and nattered as they passed us. The three of us were more akin to concerned fathers bringing their daughters out shopping for the first time since they've entered high school. We stood at the store opposite of theirs just in front of dressed female mannequins that were half our heights. Occasionally my hands would travel towards my hip to rest on the Glock 22 sitting in its concealed carry holster – old habits die hard.

It was uncomfortable alright.

My eyes darted from one end of the corridor to the other, spotting several men who looked equally as uncomfortable. Agents and officers from the alphabet agencies were sent to constantly monitor and protect Panache during her stay here. However low-profile it was, we had to be safe than sorry. With that said, the men in casual wear browsing their phones, reading books and just window shopping in an all-girls target market shopping mall was completely out of place. The female agents fared far better having either been in one of the malls like this before in their school years fit right in with the crowd. It was reassuring to see that I was not alone in my anxious trepidation.

"Why am I even here?" Sawada moaned, "I don't have a sister and I'm pretty sure am not a fifteen-year-old girl."

"You know how hard it is to keep your eyes on four teenage girls? They go into one store, scream a lot, try on some clothes then scream at their friends either looking cute, beautiful or bad in it. Before, most likely, buying the lot then wander off somewhere, rinse and repeat. It's a CPO's (Close Protection Officer's) worst nightmare! The more eyes the better," Sanada hissed, pouting in frustration.

"You're just mad that Suzuka's using all the money you've saved up, right? Is that why you're so prissy today?" I replied to see Sanada turn the other way.

"Tch!" he clicked his tongue and grumbled, "I was supposed to be lying in bed all day until the dinner."

"And I was supposed to be catching up on Kono Suba!" growled Sawada angrily.

"Nii-chan, nii-chan!" I heard a shrill voice call – it was Ayase.

"Huh?" I blurted back, confounded.

"Isn't she just the cutest?!" Ayase squealed, pulling a white-haired girl behind her.

Behind my younger sister was someone I almost didn't recognize. Dressed in a knitted beige cardigan, plaid one-piece dress, leggings and brown knee high boots with make-up applied on her face – it was Panache. The attire and cosmetics turned the boyish knight into a timid high school girl. Her once stoic and serious countenance was replaced with a posture belonging to an ingénue. I hadn't realized it but my lower jaw was left lowered leaving my mouth agape. My mind couldn't comprehend what was happening since I had no idea how normal girls dressed despite having a younger sister. Most of my cues were taken from the old man who dressed as practically and as comfortably as possible. Sandals and shorts! He loved to say. But in my muddled state of mind, not even a word escaped my mouth.

"Mhmm," incomprehensible sound eeked out from my vocal cords.

"Show some more emotion Ryu-nii!" Ayase scowled.

"Is it…bad?" murmured Panache, disappointment riddled her face as I quickly shook my head.

"What? No!" I blurted out, "I mean – it looks good on you…"

What I didn't know what to say.

I mean, anything would have looked good on Panache regardless. Glancing down nervously at my wristwatch, I realized there was another four grueling hours of this activity the girls called shopping. A concerned sigh escaped my lips as Ayase puffed up her cheeks in annoyance before turning around and scurried towards the shopkeeper telling her that she'd take the entire set before handing over my debit card. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. The two of us stood awkwardly in front of each other, Sawada, Sanada and the crowd of people around us disappearing from my sight. For the first time in a long time I was – indecisive. The White Rose had her hands clasped together in front of her dress, eyes down towards the floor and her feet pointed slightly inward. Ayase broke the illusion as she thrusted a handful of bags towards my chest.

We were dragged off to another store, then another and then another one after that. It wasn't long before Ayase, Sanada's sister, and their close friends had both racked up the bills, spent whatever money we had earned on our deployment and filled all six of our hands with shopping bags. Just when we couldn't hold anymore, they stopped called it quits and retreated to a parfait creamery. The girls sat at a table next to us clear of everything except for their dessert, phone and knickknacks. Sitting just across the aisle, three burly men picked at their alien dessert with a seat meant for six filled with shopping bags. Girlish giggles made my ears blazing hot. High pitch whispers and eyes with gazes that felt like armor piercing bullets zipped through the back of my head. We were watched like animal specimen while a tall glass filled with white emulsified sugar syrup, egg and cream crisscrossed with vague red strawberries with two Pocky sticks stabbed into the piece of art stared back at me.

"Amai! (It's sweet!)" winced Sanada, his face distorting in discomfort.

"I feel so out of place here," I grumbled and felt a jab of pain from my teeth, "I'm thirty-six and most of these kids are at least a decade younger than me. Some of them could even be my _**kid**_."

"Well the one sitting across from us with the white hair could be," chuckled Sanada slyly.

I swiftly smacked the back of his head with a open hand, watching his nose slide into the cream and laughed much to his dismay.

"I've never been to one of these places…its giving me some idea for some of the sculptures I've been working on," Sawada murmured as he looked around the parlor, particularly at the waitresses in form-fitting vests and skirts.

"Neither have we," Sanada and I whispered back without so much thought at Sawada's curious behavior whilst Sanada wiped his nose.

"Hey Cap," Sanada mumbled, a ball of the frozen dessert roll around disgustingly in his open mouth.

"You know I'm a Major now, right?" I glared back, "and shut your mouth when you eat. It's bad table manners, Sergeant."

"I know, I know, Captain's just easier and it feels familiar," he winced as he swallowed the melted puddle of cream, "I've heard things from the guys I went through boot camp with back in the day."

"Back in the day? That's just three years ago," Sawada sneered while picking at his parfait to form a perfect cone of white and red cream.

"Shh! I'm trying to pass off some important HUMINT (Human Intelligence)!" shushed Sanada.

I chuckled seeing Sawada mouthing silent words before he looked away with a huff, "I'm a Sergeant First Class and I'm getting shushed by a Sergeant."

"Anyways, since the 4th Combat Unit just got back a bit ago, Kamo's pushing for the 1st Unit to roll in deep into the North. The 2nd and 3rd Combat Units are still undergoing familiarization training so the 1st, 4th and 5th are the only ones combat ready. And well, we know what the 5th are. They're basically just the glorified security guards to Alnus," Sanada explained in a hushed tone, the three of us inching closer to hear better in the café busy with female teenagers and young adults.

"H-How deep?" I stuttered in a hush tone with focused intent and interest.

"A battalion made of mechanized infantry, support and light armor recon support by, guess who?" Sanada murmured, pointing his spoon at us.

"SpecOps," I sighed, "that probably means they're going to scout out an airfield a dozen or so kilometers from the mountains, land C-130s on unprepared strips and unload there."

"Then go about their business, get Prince Zorzal and Tyuule then scoot out at speed towards the airfield, pack up and leave the way they came," finished Sawada as he leaned back and crossed his arms, "but why an entire battalion? It sounds like something the US Army's 75th Ranger would do when assaulting an airstrip not unspecialized light infantry or mechanized cavalry. I'm pretty sure the dragons are considered STOVL aircraft."

"Psyops (Psychological Warfare)," I answered back, "shock and awe. Send in something that strikes fast and hard, telling any separatist cells in the area that you mess with the JGSDF or the Empress and they'll come and get you in the middle of the night. There isn't a single thing you can do about it, magic or not. Like one big giant Michael Bay movie designed to wow people. If now then never since they'll spend too much time training up a new unit."

"Mike Bay? Who's Mike Bay?" Sanada asked.

"Michael Bay, you numbskull. Transformers? You know the movie with the explosions that look good to the eye but the plot's absolute trash? No?" I replied to see Sanada shake his head.

"Sorry boss, no clue what you're talking about," Sanada shrugged.

"You really do live under a rock…" sighed Sawada, "so what about us?"

"You know that cruise the Ashigara was supposed to go on for its shakedown in Range Sierra after having being refit with some new toys? They were supposed to carry, oh you know, a Special Forces unit. And instead of going to open sea they were going to sail up the Rho with – get this, a SOC-R and CH-47JA instead of the SH-60K. We were supposed to go on a cruise with the Ashigara so it can't be a coincidence!" Sanada said excitedly, ice cream flying out of his mouth and splattering on to my face, "sorry boss. Got a little excited."

I grabbed a tissue to wipe both the spit and the grimace on my face, "so we're the battalion's plan B if anything happens. I'm going to guess we use the SOC-R to hightail it from the Chinook up the rivers and standby a couple hundred meters to provide a secondary extraction point for the team. Man, I hope those guys know what they're doing…a hasty decision and our only lead might turn into a dead corpse. Wonder who's doing the long range reconnaissance and pathfinding…"

"There's only one unit and a few platoons I know that's capable enough of that task…" Sawada mused, stabbing at his parfait, "WAIR and the Special Forces Group's Mountain Warfare platoons."

"There's an even less number of us in Range Sierra. I'll give the team leads a call and see what I can find out," I whispered with excitement back.

"What are you talking about?" a feminine voice called out from beside me, startling me.

It was Panache, it seemed like the girls sent her over to tell us to pay for the dessert and carry their bags out.

"Uh…just a, uhm," I glanced towards Sawada for help.

"A video game!" Sawada blurted out unsurely.

"Veedee-o gae-mu?" Panache replied back, trying to sound out the words.

"We'll show you at the arcades! Come, come, let Ryu pay for the food and Sawada get the bags!" Sanada hurriedly said, "itai!"

Sawada kicked his sneaker covered foot at his shin as Sanada slyly slipped out from responsibility, pushing Panache out towards the door. With a grumble, I unwillingly paid the bill before helping Sawada with the shopping bags. Sanada took the girls to an arcade to kill time as we split up. I watched the agents attempting to look inconspicuous, following them down the street.

As we stashed our shopping bags at an underground parking lot, Sawada and I noticed something from the crowd of protective eyes. A small group of men and women moved differently to both the agents and civilians around us. They were lithe, agile and strangely adept at dodging people while their hands were either in their pockets or in their bags. Their strange and often foreign mannerisms made them easy enough to pick out from the crowd if you looked close enough. There was an air of tension that lingered over them and could be picked up by trained individuals. While none of them followed us in the underground parking garage, anyone could tell they were tailing us.

It was a game of cat and mouse.

Despite being on pins and needles, we continued on with our day until five in the evening when everyone on the team and family converged at Sanada's family restaurant. The restaurant in question was a yakuniku grill run by Sanada's family. It was a fairly sizeable establishment having an entire parking lot dedicated to itself but it was some ways off from the sprawling metropolis of Tokyo. But for today, it was closed for staff and family. The many separated tables were pulled together to make one large square with individual grills for two to four persons.

Okuda came with his wife, daughter and son. Ige brought all of this family from Hokkaido while Ikeda was unsurprisingly – by himself. But surprisingly, Kazuki came with Akagi but was alone, his children were nowhere to be seen. Ishihara had brought his grandparents and a box of alcohol from his home town as a gift. My father had given a heavy crate of liquor to add to the party as well but was stashed near the rear of the restaurant. It was a family feast with staff members, family and friends enjoying themselves in the rustically decorated mom and pop grill. In the dim light, I sat next to Panache while loudly screaming in a shouting competition between me, Ige, Sanada's father, Sanada and the old man.

All five of us were all filled up with beer, whiskey and sake.

Sanada's parents laughed while we got into a brotherly wrestle. I didn't remember what happened exactly but the snotty twenty-one-year-old Sergeant had a burst of arrogance after consuming alcohol. There was more than enough space for the two of us to roll around in. And roll around I did, grappling with superior skill. After minutes of drunken grappling and grabbing of each other's private areas, we were lying on the floor with exhaustion to the cheering of our family and staff. Even in my drunken stupor, I watched as Ayase, Panache and my mother share drinks of amazake, taruzake and wine. The sweet, bitter and sour liquor was consumed easily by the three women.

No matter how refined Panache tried to act while under the influence, her reddened face betrayed her composure. Words were slurred, pieces of meat were dropped from clumsy chopsticks and her swaying told me all about her inebriation. My family was full of heavy drinkers as they continued to pour more and more into Panache's tiny shot-sized glass.

Kazuki, my father and Sanada's father were hashing it out in a sozzled debate over current Japanese politics. Slams of bottles onto hard wooden tables were heard each other as they poured each other glass after glass. The three older men downed each glass of alcohol like it was water and before long stacks of opened liquor bottles started to pile up along with piles of green Edamame beans. Through bleary eyes, I wondered if Sanada's shop would still have enough sake and beer to serve their customers the following day.

In the back in the VIP rooms were televisions hooked up to a variety of gaming consoles and wireless television video transmitter for kids to play in. Okuda, Akagi and Sawada were confined to the rooms with children heatedly trying to beat Sawada on the consoles and Akagi playing with Tsumugi, Kana and other smaller kids much to his chagrin. Akagi said nothing as younger kids pulled at his longer than regulation waxed hair, cheeks and hoodie while laughing with blissful ignorance.

From the floor, I watched Ishihara stand up with a sway as he stumbled towards the door with Ikeda. Both had a cigarette in hand but Ishihara had the lighter. They probably thought it was impolite to smoke with children just a few rooms away and decided to take a puff outside instead. Pushing myself up, the room spun and rocked like a boat. I lost my step while stumbling towards my seat. Panache's composure was completely lost. She was now a mumbling mess with her face plastered on the table top while my mother and sister ran their mouth away with the other wives, daughters and women. I slouched down in the wooden chair with a tired sigh. My stomach was burning and madly itched. A belch escaped my throat as a buzzing tickled my left thigh. Reaching in, I swiped many times at fingerprint riddled touchscreen before I was able to answer the call.

"Anderson, I'm *burp* on vacation," I replied with closed eyes.

"Major it's I-Ikeda," belched my 2IC, "I've got…eyes on a couple of blacked out vans? Pulling up into the parking lot. No one's coming out yet but I'm not sure if they're waiting for s-something."

"Blacked out vans…if it's not the Yakuza it's something worse," I grumbled back and opened my eyes, "keep your eyes peeled."

"No license plates, lined up around the parking lot in flanking positions and…" Ikeda was cut off.

The electricity was abruptly shut off, plunging the lively restaurant into darkness.

"That's not good," I murmured under my breath, "call me back."

A sudden rush of adrenaline shot though my body filling the rocking world with muddled clarity. I glanced towards the ground to see Sanada's eyes wide in the blacked out establishment. He rolled over, pushing himself upright with clumsy urgency before stumbling over to his parents. My father, Kazuki and Sanada's father snapped to their feet, albeit with some swaying – their training kicking in. The team, Sanada's father and my old man started to usher people into the kitchen where the metal tables, appliances and the large cold room was after a couple moments of shock and disbelief. Several inches thick with insulation and steel exterior, the cold room was the best bet for a bulletproof room for bystanders.

There wasn't a blackout this long without an earthquake.

And there was no earthquake.

Sanada's father was anything but an innocent bystander. Hiroki Sanada served in the military for fifteen years, ten with the 1st Airborne Unit and he was the meanest they had. Although smaller than both me, my father and Okuda, he made up for in cunning, tenacity and aggression. Hiroki was the biggest influence in Ishihara's and Sanada's enlistment into the Ground Self Defense Force.

Stumbling back into the eating area, we started flipping tables on their sides. Loud clatters of wooden tables rang throughout the silent restaurant. Glasses shattered, dishes broken and a mixture of uncooked skewers along with hot coals scattered across the ground. Small glows of red hot coal lit the concrete floor with soft flickering sparks of light in the hazy darkness.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I slid behind the thick timber. The darkness was still pitch black but my eyes would adjust in due time. Reaching into the insides of my trousers, I yanked out the Glock from its conceal carry holster. It was missing the usual suppressor can at the end of the threaded barrel. Had the suppressor been on, it would have imprinted against my right thigh in questionable fashion. Bright green tritium sights sat in place of old factory pegs with the addition of an LLM (Laser Light Module) bolted just in front of the trigger guard.

"God damn it," groaned Sanada, "I forgot to *burp* return my own pistol. How the hell have I been carrying two?!"

"Give it here kid," Hiroki ordered and clumsily yanked the Sig from Sanada's hand.

"Do you even remember how to use it, pop?" Sanada grunted back.

"Better than you," he shot back, fiddling with the sidearm.

"Pfft, yeah right," Sanada laughed.

Another buzzing filled my ears and tickled my leg, "Major," said the 2IC.

"Go," I grumbled back.

"The entire block's power has been shut down. Men are jumping out from the vans, counting…" there was a shuffling buzz and hushed tones before Ikeda continued, "fifteen or so assaulters. We've called both the police and PSIA. Their agents should be arriving shortly for back-up."

"Keep me updated," I replied back, feeling the burning liquid bubbling up to my throat.

Throbbing pulsed constantly against my temples. Senses went into overdrive as my adrenaline continued to spike sending pulsating waves of pain across my inebriated brain. It felt like I was having the worst hangover of my life while still drunk. I glanced beside me to see my father pushing very gently against the frame of the table with his battered sidearm drawn.

Old Man Tom's Glock 20 was thoroughly used. Worn through heavy usage, the once coyote tan painted pistol was now more scuffed black polymer than tan matching the scuffed red dot sight sitting up against the rear sights. The checkered rubber grip was worn down until it was baby bum smooth. My father had to rewrap it in hockey tape to maintain traction and grip. Concealed carry was against Japanese laws but old habits die hard especially when Thomas was still in the contracting world and had to travel overseas often much to my mother's disappointment.

I too copied my father's stance, placing a hand against the frame to steady myself into a crouch. My Glock was held close to my chest, pointing downwards towards the ground. Pulling the slide back, I checked to make sure there was brass in the chamber. I carried my weapon in Condition 1 – magazine inserted, round in the chamber, safety on. Tinkling from the doorbell perked my ears towards the noise. It was just seconds before the bell was silenced, through artificial or natural means I couldn't tell.

Near inaudible taps of rubber soled shoes echoed through the establishment. Bright white lights shot out from the darkness casting long shadows behind toppled furniture and ceiling decorates. The bright beam blinded my eyes. It felt like small needles were jabbing my eyeballs and with a painful wince, I squeezed them shut in an attempt to preserve night vision.

There were no hushed tones, no panicked voices – _nothing_. Whoever they were, they weren't a rowdy gang of Yakuza nor were they organized criminals planning to ransom a Special Region native for money – they were trained. Thumping from my slow beating heart filled my ears. It had been a while since I was up against a trained gunman. The prospect excited me, yet it also sent my stomach into a dive. My family and my team's family were here just a couple dozen feet behind us.

 _We couldn't fail._

But this is what training was for.

I waited until the cold, bright light dimmed. I could feel the beam around me. The heat from just the weapon light disappeared for a few moments, darkening behind shut lids. My eyes snapped open to see the wobbling familiar steel backing of the yakuniku grilling table and flicked the safety off with my right thumb. Switching hands to fire the weapon from my left side, I leaned out from behind the cover. In one smooth motion, my arms extended, finger depressed the trigger and aimed just slightly right of a series of blinding white beams until I felt the predictable jerk of the sidearm in my hands. It seemed like the beams were bobbing from side to side. Not just that, but there was two of everything.

Squinting, I tried to focus the double vision.

 _Bang! Bang!_

The gunshot rang loudly in my ears as the Glock 22 kicked against my hands before settling down. My ears rang. The gunfire was excruciatingly loud without ear protection not to mention we were inside a building. A flash of orange, red and white was seen very briefly from the unsuppressed muzzle flash of the handgun's threaded muzzle. Green tritium sights was smoothly moved just to the left before the pistol jerked again. I watched the light shoot upwards, illuminating the exposed ceilings full of wires, vents and structural frames that ran across the entire restaurant. Furious return fire erupted from the other side as I ducked back into cover. Loud cracks, bangs and thuds exploded against the metal in front of me. A symphony blasted from around me in series of two and three bangs from pistols. My men started opening up, drawing fire away from us and towards them.

My heart pounded in my ears, loud and rapid.

I had forgotten this feeling.

It was the same when we faced off against simulated opposition at Yakima Training Center in Washington. The excitement, the thrill and the rush of facing off against armed combatants that could actually _kill_ you with firearms. They were as smart, as ferocious and as cognizant as we were and maybe even more. Loud pings ran in my ear like rain striking the roof and glass. The thick steel table was acting excellently as cover despite the large hole in the middle to accommodate a charcoal grill. Acrid smell of gunpowder mixed with the disappearing whiff of beef and pork while rounds continued to pop off from both sides.

Reddened coals exploded in a dazzling spark of red, white and orange, stinging my arms with fiery hot sparks. I watched one of the charcoal pot burst from the speeding bullet. Searing hot burned away at my arm hairs while a couple slammed into my pant legs. The pain was but a dull warmth from the combination of alcohol and adrenaline. Smoldering meat caught my attention as the skewers had stuck inside one of the pots. Blackish smoke started to rise from the grill, obscuring my vision.

"Ryu!" my father yelled to catch my attention, "throw this at them!"

It was a flashlight, a powerful one enough to blind anyone looking at it from pointblank.

Grabbing the torch, I clicked it on and shielded the powerful beam with my hand. I glanced at my father to see the old man nod before chucking the metallic tube straight into the cluster of lights. Angry yells of loud, choppy words that I could only identify as some form of Chinese fell upon my ear. The two of us stood up from behind cover to take advantage of the brief moment of blindness to squeeze off more rounds. Slightly turned towards the side, the light pointed towards us and the group of assailants. Dressed in thick black jackets, pants and boots, they carried what seemed to be submachine guns that we were eerily familiar with complete with cheap Chinese knockoff weapon lights. It wasn't long before weapon fire was turned back to us and another series of loud shouts were heard.

Whatever drunken stupor I was in prior was now gone. I was sober once again with vibrant clarity. My hands nimbly manipulated the pistol, slamming a new magazine into the now empty Glock. Another tinkling of the bell was heard as the blinding beams disappeared. I stood up and leveled my sidearm just to hear another series of gunshots echo through the restaurant. Orange flashes of light illuminated the entrance. Bullets quickly cut down the remaining attackers as the muzzle flash briefly lit a baseball tee dressed young man accompanied by a sweater wearing man. Just as I was about to squeeze off another round, I quickly let go of the trigger and lowered the pistol.

It was Ishihara and Ikeda.

"Just in the nick of time!" Sanada yelled at the two other members, "what took yer so long?!"

"Had to wait for back-up. The regulars got here first, PSIA was slow to respond," Ishihara replied, holstering his weapon.

As he finished his sentence the lights flickered back on, blinding me for a few seconds.

"That's bureaucracy for you," my father let out a pained grunt as he got up.

"Or something else completely…" Kazuki murmured just audible enough to hear, "look at their weapons."

Okuda's eyes narrowed, "Minebea PM-9s…"

"Aye…"

Holstering our weapons, I crouched down over the bodies.

With scrutinizing eyes I examined the weapons closely. The submachine guns were of age and had even more wear than my father's Glock 20. Polymer grips were worn down to nothing and the metal abraded so badly I was surprised it still functioned. The serial numbers printed on the slide were filed down and the attackers were wielding them with gloves on. They really were professionals. The guns were untraceable and unidentifiable. While most were dead from multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, three were still alive – barely. Fresh red blood flowed freely from wheezing frames. The smell of burning meat smothered the metallic life force pouring from their open wounds. Balaclavas covered their faces, forcefully rising and falling clinging to their sweat filled face.

"This one's still alive," I said and glanced up at Ikeda, "you speak Chinese, right?"

"Mandarin and Cantonese. Yes Major, I do," replied Ikeda.

"Take him to the VIP room and do your work," I ordered.

"If you don't mind Ryu, I'd like to call SAT in on this. Something's fishy about PSIA. Either they've got a mole or…" Kazuki suggested before Akagi cut in.

"We've got a traitor," Akagi finished and pulled out his phone, "some of my old friends from SAT are helping internal affairs sniff out the person who sold us out. They've been building a case on _them._ I'm with Inspector Shimamoto on this one."

"I've heard more words out of you today than when we were in Range Sierra. Probably means this is very serious. Very well, call your team in and instruct the regulars to close off the scene to PSIA. I'm sure JAPSOCOM wants to hear about this," I grumbled and pulled out my phone.


	21. Chapter 19: A Week in Hell

Chapter 19: A Week in Hell

"Ryu…" a voice called with a whimper, "it's cold…"

It was pitch black, like a veil was pulled over my eyes. My body felt sweaty, clammy and just grimy in general. In the distance a body appeared before me. The frame laid on the ground – still. As I took a single step forward, my feet felt the subzero darkness beneath. My toes seemed to completely become rigid from the freezing mist I walked upon. There was no heat, nor warmth, I couldn't even feel the beating of my heart. It was like I was walking dead. But, the air wasn't cold. There wasn't any at all. I came to realize that I wasn't even breathing. Looking down, I felt my heart jump. There was no single piece of clothing on me, but that wasn't what surprised me. What did was the bluish tint my skin had become and the black veins that crisscrossed them.

 _Give in to the darkness,_ the voices whispered into my ear.

The whisper was warped with many pitches and voices, thick like the venom it spewed.

 _We wait for you across the shimmering sea._

A vague reflection shimmered below my feet.

I knelt down.

Eyes as dark as the pitch black darkness stared back at me. My skin was blue and the same blackish veins overlapped my face. A grunt escaped my white lips as I felt my chest flare up with a jab of searing pain. My veins boiled. It was like lava had been poured into them. Bones cracked and warped, my mouth and nose protruded outwards into a snout and fur started to grow rapidly all over my body. My hands extended into long digits tipped with claws. The shimmering pool I was in turned a bloody dull red.

A body suddenly appeared in front of me. Pools of bright red blood seeped from the intimately familiar frame. A lust for the red liquid filled every fiber of my being, making me lick my lips in a ravenous hunger as I loomed over the weakened figure. Emerald eyes flicked upwards towards me. Silvery hair shook with fear as a weakened breath escaped once rosy lips.

"No…"

 _Beep, beep, beep._

My eyes snapped open to a spartanly decorated and darkened four walled room.

A light weight held my body down across my chest as the annoyance from my phone alarm's beeping continued along with it's the buzzing vibration against timber. I was drenched in sweat, sticky and still rapidly breathing as if I had just sprinted the mile. A splitting headache throbbed inside my skull. A soft murmur tickled my ear accompanied by the rustling of the sheets. Glancing over to my side and bundled up in our shared blanket was my girlfriend. There wasn't a single speck of perspiration on her body in the cool night air yet mine was covered from head to toe.

With a pained grumbled, I pulled her arm off of my body and rolled out of bed.

I rubbed my face to wash away the sleepiness and grabbed my phone from the bedside desk – 0400 Hours. It was too early for most people to get up. But then again, I wasn't most people. A handful of days had passed since we had gotten back to the Special Region. My father was still mysteriously missing after telling me that he would be joining up at a later time. His words were the only form of explanation and it still echoed loudly in my head, 'I'll be procuring more equipment so hang tight, kiddo. Remember we're going a long trip where supply may not arrive. Weapons breakdown and if we can't get it replaced we're fucked.'

Turning around, I kissed the sleeping beauty on the forehead before stumbling towards the bathroom. The lights were bright and blinding as I peered through squinted eyes at the bearded man in front of me. Today was to be the day where my team would take over training for the newly put together Raider Selection Regiment or the RSS. We would teach them after a small gut and physical check on what my team specialized in – Reconnaissance despite being misused by JSDF high command to be more like a jack of all trades. I reached up and scraped the razor against lubricated hair. Men had gone forth with the operation and pathfinding teams from my platoon were being deployed to scout out possible landing sites for the eight C-130Hs operating in the Special Region from the 401st Squadron. Panache and I had watched the battalion of high speed APCs, AFVs and the Type 16 Maneuver Combat Vehicles blast around the fields at high speeds in preparation for the operation.

Hot water seared already heated skin as I stood beneath the heated shower with my hands placed against the wall. It wasn't long before I stepped out after lathering myself up and washing myself off. I watched Panache turn over in the bed and the blanket she wrestled from me up towards her chest. On my table where my laptop sat was a tee laid out for me. It was a simple olive drab shirt with the new unit's patch on the back and the words 'Special Operations Instructor' written over the upper right side. I pulled on the tee, some spare set of multicam pants, comfy combats and a matching boonie hat before heading out of the room.

Even in the early morning, the base was still bustling with activity. Certain units were starting their PT (Physical Training), sentries and patrols watching over the base during the night were rotating shifts and sleepy soldiers too exhausted from their stints at headquarters shuffling off for some shut-eye. Loud ratcheting and banging could still be heard from the other side of the base. Constantly lit by high powered lights, the vehicle depot never seemed to sleep. Every few minutes, a truck, jeep or an armored vehicle would enter and exit their side of the base. Each vehicle traveled for long distances and breakdowns were frequent enough. Fortunately, the helicopters were quiet during the night and with the air field so far away, the jets were barely heard overhead. Only the three green, white and red formation lights were all I could see of them as they took to the night skies. The roars of their turbofans echoed in the sky and the thumping of the helicopter blades chopping through the air were ever present.

"Hey, Major! Over here!" Okuda yelled out in the sparsely populated DFAC (Dining FACility) as I picked up my food.

"Alright, alright. Stop calling me by my rank, Sergeant Major," I chuckled, annoyed and sat down next to Ikeda, "I'm not the only one to get a promotion, now was I?"

"We were so soused at the party we forgot to tell you," Sawada grinned and placed his left arm on the table to show off the three chevrons on his olive-drab service cold-weather jacket.

"Both of your sorry asses are now Master Sergeants, huh?" Okuda laughed loudly and slapped both Ige and Sawada on the backs.

"What about you Lieutenant?" Ige winced, rubbing his back.

With an annoyed sigh, Ikeda threw his Velcro patch towards the middle of the table. Two cheery blossoms adorned the miniature patch as Ikeda returned to his manila file. A roar of cheers erupted at the plastic long table and the chugging of milk, coffee and tea commemorated the series of promotions as it was still too early in the day to partake in alcoholic beverages. Not to mention the training exercises we would soon be instructing. Ishihara and Sanada were left out since they were still attachés from the 1st Airborne Brigade and I had to send my recommendations to their own chain of commands. Akagi and Kazuki too were in the same boat. Whether or not the four of them would earn their promotion was up to their parent unit. I had written up recommendations to each of the units but it seemed only Ige and Sawada's were promoted. Sanada was mysteriously missing while we ate breakfast together.

"Major," Ikeda called.

"Hrmm?" I grumbled and sipped at piss warm, bitter and malodorous base coffee.

"We've got some new additions to the team," Ikeda explained and slipped the file he was reading towards me, "some were obligatory as per requested by the Colonel, others…"

Flipping through the pages, portfolios of the new additions displayed almost everything we needed to know about them. Our small nine man team was about to inflate into two squads with the total count of fourteen. Most were support staff, logistics, linguists, geographers essential to an exploration mission. Then there were personnel like a reporter and her video crew from NHK which confounded me. Having a reporter could jeopardize our second directive and the sole purpose why we were here – to eliminate potential threats to Japan and its allies.

"Kuribayashi Nanami," I murmured, the taste of bad coffee souring my mood even further, "a damn reporter, huh?"

"Kuribayashi? Shino's sister?" Ishihara asked, surprised, "how'd she get a gig abroad the Ashigara? I thought she was supposed to be a standard reporter not a war correspondent."

"You know nothing about this?" I replied to the younger Sergeant.

"No idea at all…I'll have to ask Shino about this," he murmured back.

"Major Ryu," a gravely and hoarse called from behind me.

I turned around to see a muscular man dressed in a black shirt with the words instructor written in white bold letters. His closed cut, whiting crew cut showed off his age despite his still athletic physique. Jaded brown eyes glanced at each member of our group as he stood at the head of the dining table. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth as I saluted the far older man.

"Well I'll be damned, Sergeant Major Kida," I chuckled and gestured at the free spot next to me, "didn't expect to see you here."

"I didn't expect to be here either…" he grumbled back and pushed another clipboard towards me, "I've taken over for selection but it's not looking too good. Pre-selection and the first week of phase one took a toll on the recruits. One quarter of the class dropped like flies just from physical fitness, another quarter from the airborne qualification phase and then some from the first week. They've been through surf torture, endurance marches, beach PT, everything SBU, WAIR and Japanese Spec Group has thrown at them – only eighty remain."

"Eighty..." I breathed, rubbing my bearded chin, "damn. We've still got three weeks left to go."

"That's what selection does, doesn't it? Weed out the weak," Okuda said with a small smile and sipped his coffee.

"We've got another eight temporary recruits to add so that should beef up the numbers for team week at least, right?" Ige asked cheekily.

"Eight temp recruits? What?" I was confounded.

"Ishihara and Sanada are going in for team week. The other six, well, they're in the file," Ige answered as I reopened the file, flipping through all the civilian and military support portfolios.

"Christ on a bike," I grumbled, nearly choking on my own spit, "you're kidding me."

The first person leading the Special Region element of Susanowo was none other than – the White Rose herself. Next was Myuute, dragged off from her duties as military police due to her wide spread knowledge of Falmart's culture and geography. Growler was the third new recruit. A wolfman exiled from his own pack for insubordination to the past Empire, he fled for his life to Alnus. Picked up for physical prowess, Growler was also an excellent hunter and natural borne fighter but a troublesome lone wolf. Cora volunteered to be part of the team and her natural affinity with water made her an asset at sea. Rinne was a warrior bunny with prized fighting skills. Rescued from the gladiatorial ring, the former slave fighter was happy to help out wherever she could. Hasegawa was the last to round out the group. Even with her basic military training, the selection was the final ringer to see if she could work with a team as a radiotelephone operator, Special Forces support personnel and isolated while still having the will to carry on through the worst of conditions.

"What's the company's status?" Okuda asked the Sergeant Major.

"All seventy-three of them are back on base for the weekend after suffering through hell week. Most of them are still in beds as we speak," Sergeant Major Kida replied as I glanced up at the eight gathered at the table.

"Get half the training staff to wake them up at 0600. The other half requisition out six HMVs with slings and chains. We'll also need weapons to be issued to the company. Have the larger members be equipped with 240 Bravos. Full kit, bergens and full combat dress, we're moving back to their training camp for team week and reconnaissance training," I ordered casually, finishing up the chocolate pudding dessert, "do as the United States Air Force Pararescuemen do and drill the team into them."

"Sometimes you scare even me, Ryu," Kida grumbled back and slapped me hard on the shoulders before saying his goodbyes, "I'll get it done. Sergeant Major Okuda, Lieutenant Ikeda."

"This is going to be fun!" Okuda yawned and leaned back with his arms out stretched.

We didn't waste any time.

The tables, trays and foam cups were cleaned up quickly before we ran back to our rooms to pack. I calmly entered my room to see the bed made and pillow back in place. Some of her garments were no longer here. The old togas she used to wear was thrown out in favor of lingerie bought from the many boutique of Japanese stores, namely the expensive Ginza shopping street.

I winced thinking of the damage they did to my bank account before lifting up my wooden bed that doubled as a storage locker. Inside was my own Bergen, plate carrier and assorted equipment commonly used like cords of rope and duct tape to name a few, canteens and my battle belt. I pulled all of them out before donning my multicam boonie and grabbing my Mark 17 SCAR-H. Marching out towards the parade grounds commonly used by the 4th Combat Unit, I saw the candidates lined up with their bergens sitting in front of them. Each was lined in neat rows and columns with the eight new additions at the back.

The parade fields were large with buildings surrounding the field on all sides. Sounds of everyday life on the base started to become louder and louder with the rays of the morning sun. Soldiers were jogging past by the recruits yelling out their unit cadence in loud booming voices to intimidate them. Vehicles grumbled by with sleepy privates and alert sergeants glancing over every now and then.

My team was there, stalking around, lurking about and eyeballing each of the candidates behind the darkened shades of their sunglasses while Okuda was at the front. Standing at attention, the past chief instructor was whispering to him before falling in line with the staff to watch over the next evolution of the training. Five different boxes sat in front of them – open. Six silent HMVs were behind Okuda as the freshly minted Sergeant Major was unreadable through his orange lensed Oakley sunglasses. Next to him was a completely blank whiteboard.

"Good morning recruits," Okuda said in a loud voice, but he wasn't screaming, "my name does not matter nor does the name of any of the instructors taking over for team week. You can call any of us Sergeant Raider. The seven of us are from an active mixed force unit and while last week was the evolution of 'hell week' focused on individual ability, physical fitness and determination, this week is the beginning of team week and reconnaissance training. Selection isn't finished and at any chance you want to quit just sign that voluntary release form and deliver it to one of the training staff. I will not yell at you, I will not scream at you, everything you need to know will be written on the whiteboard. One last thing. It's not me you have to be afraid of – it's him."

Okuda pointed his finger at me.

Everyone stared at me, even the White Rose. She gave a restrained smile but I did not answer back. Walking up to the whiteboard, I grabbed the black marker. Squeaks were all that I heard in my ears as the rest of the parade grounds were silent, save for the boot crunching of passersby. Each stroke was calculated, each word perfectly level as I finished and stepped away.

 _5 Klick drive to training base._

 _Collect your rifle for normal candidates, light machine gun for larger candidates._

 _Pack must be eighty kilograms (excluding water)_

 _0645 Hours_

 _Time limit – 4 hours_

"Your instructors will split you into squads of fourteen, each squad will have a designated squad leader that will constantly rotate throughout the week. There will be a class leader for the entire company. You, 034, you're one of the officers in the company, right? You're leading the class. Pick your second in command. You have your orders, get to it," Okuda finished as the barking of instructors broke the silent air.

"Let's go recruit! Sound off!" one yelled.

"You're on my time, recruit! Not yours, unless you want to quit! Go ahead sign that fucking form!" another screamed.

"You thought hell week was the end and you weren't going to see my face again? Drop and give me thirty!"

"I didn't say that your previous instructors won't yell at you! It's that we, won't'!" Okuda reinforced, "get comfortable with being uncomfortable candidates, this will be your life for the next seven days!"

Activity exploded over the parade grounds.

The atmosphere – electric.

From behind my shades, I watched Panache scramble along with Myuute, Hasegawa, Sanada, Ishihara and a couple members of their new squad. Frazzled, she attempted to make sense of the information overload before an instructor walked over. As punishment for being slow, sluggish and unresponsive, the entire team was made to high crawl towards their weapons. The fifteen minute start time made it hectic for everyone. Those who weren't awake were now crawling on the ground, holding their weapons up in the air in isometric holds, running around the grounds or any combination of exercises designed to test strength, endurance and mental fortitude.

"This is designed to hurt, this is designed to hurt, this is designed to hurt," Sergeant Major Kida repeated over and over on his megaphone as though they were just going through basic physical training.

It was a gut-check.

Half an hour later, they were drenched in sweat, exhausted and fatigued. The sore candidates were finally able to throw their gear onto the backs of the HMVs. As the first group jumped into their HMV and turned the key, the heavy two and a half ton truck sputtered and died. Medical staff, instructors and Special Forces officers kept an eagle eye on each recruit looking out for signs of sun stroke, extreme dehydration and exhaustion. Ishihara's group was the second group to attempt to start the HMV. As the engine continued to sputter and die, the two Airborne members jumped out of their vehicles and dived into the back of their trucks to find chains while the other candidates mulled around, unaware of what to do. As Ishihara and Sanada hook up the chains to their HMV, the pain hammer was coming to the class.

"What are you doing, platoon? What are you doing, platoon?!" the Sergeant Major yelled, the veins across the side of his head bulging from such force, "everyone drop to the ground! Elbows on the ground, don't let your fucking stomach touch the ground! Did Sergeant Raider not tell you the start time? What fucking time is it, candidates?"

Conditioning continued while we let the training staff work. My team started moving out from the base towards the first checkpoint just two kilometers away, south of the base following the Roma River towards the Blue Sea and the Tybe Mountains. Unlike training back in Japan where it was relatively safe and outside variables were controlled, the Special Region came with its own risks. Apex predators, magic and creatures of the night were constantly prowling the woods. Danger lurked near and far which is why we carried our operational weapons with us at all times. Not only were we training staff, we were also their guard and sentries.

Two hours had passed since the start of the evolution.

Leaning against the bark of a tree, Okuda and I stood in bored silence. Our packs were on the sides of individual Honda XLR250Rs commonly used for reconnaissance. Annoying buzzing filled my ears as a gentle winter breeze rippled the grass on rolling hills. Trees shook from the passing air. A tired sigh escaped from the older man, his eyes glued to his binoculars as I kept a close eye on the hands of my wristwatch.

"Susanowo Actual, Kida, report status over," I murmured into the throat microphone.

"Class Zero One passed the one kilometer checkpoint three mikes ago," Kida reported while loud yelling pierced my ears from the background, "they haven't done a head check since we left Alnus, copy?"

"Solid copy. Kida, kill six candidates for the slow pace and then capture the class leader and his 2IC," I ordered with a grumble, "make them remember why they need to do a head count."

"Roger that, Actual."

The 1st Ranger Regiment training was a mishmash of many training evolutions pulled from special operations branches of the United States military, Philippines NAVSOG and Royal Thai Recon Marines. While not primarily water borne, the Raiders would be the only unit in the Japanese Self Defense Force that could deploy for direct action raids within six hours of alert notification. Many other missions include, airfield seizures, special reconnaissance, personnel recovery, clandestine insertion and site exploitation.

They were going to be the Japanese Self Defense Force's elite light infantry.

Unlike the United States Army's 75th Ranger Regiment, support for the Raiders would be limited since the self-defense force didn't have a large special aviation wing, boat team or any special mission support of any type. Anything dropped in with the Raiders that break down in the field would either have to be carried/dragged out or destroyed to prevent equipment from falling into enemy hands. Once deployed, the Raiders would have no one to depend on except for the company they were deployed with.

The team would have to come first before all personal needs.

During team week, the fundamentals of advanced marksmanship would be taught along with special unit tactics. Reconnaissance would be ingrained into brains. If required, they could be dropped off far from the objective or behind enemy lines, navigate with haste towards the AO and execute their mission before extracting from the area. They had to learn how to get there and how to get there without being detected before they could fight.

Close quarters combat, open field maneuvers and fighting from vehicles would become second nature to the candidates before they were shipped off to specialized training to become Special Forces medical sergeants, Special Forces communications sergeant, or any of the other Special Forces specializations. The Raiders would have only them and their team to depend on once in country. Which is why the first week was focused on the individual much like the United States Army's Green Beret. If separated, they would have to depend on themselves until they were either rescued or rejoined with their team. The training and selection were different to the Japanese Special Forces Group where the individuality and mastering of the basics were the focus.

"Actual, Masa, report," my headset suddenly burst with noise.

"Susanowo Actual. Send, over," I replied.

"As of 0705 Hours, five more have VRF'ed (vee-ref'ed), over. Two have been sent to the medical staff for injuries. Seven have dropped from the program in total," Masahiro, one of the WAIR training staff reported as I zippered the microphone.

"More quitters, huh?" Okuda sighed.

"It's a tough program. Probably as tough as our selection," I chuckled.

"Pffft," Okuda suppressed a laugh, "please, this is nothing. They've got strength in numbers. Remember the stuff they'd make us do in eight man teams? It was insanity. Sometimes borderline inhumane hell, plain and simple."

"There they are," I murmured and gestured further down the road.

With the morning sun now halfway towards the middle of the sky, shimmers of light danced like rippling waves of water in front of a large plume of dust. Silhouettes humanoid shapes could be seen inside the cloud along with the blocky outline of the Mega Cruisers being towed manually. What we didn't tell the candidates was that the trucks were empty with no fuel inside. Although functional, they wouldn't be given fuel until they reached checkpoint two where they'll experience the power of the combustion. It was to teach them that if their vehicles ever broke down, it would be on them to pull the damaged or broken vehicle back to their exfiltration point. There would be only four of the original six operational HMVs with capacity to carry only four to seven passengers while most of the company would still have to ruck it towards the training camp, but they would be able to place their heavy loads onto the trucks and jog in relative comfort to what they were doing now.

"You think they'll make it?" Okuda doubted as I shrugged in reply.

Faint rustling behind me caught my attention. It was normal enough to be some harmless wildlife but on the event that it wasn't, we'd be the ones who'd have to safeguard the infant Raiders. My right hand instinctively went towards the SCAR's pistol grip. Squinting, I gazed into the dense brush. Coolness of a passing breeze touched my sweat covered skin and rustled the branches once more. Something tugged at my gut. Something felt off, I couldn't tell what but felt a pair of eyes locked on me. I flicked the safety off and caught Okuda's attention. The older operator's eyes narrowed before glancing behind him.

Rustling from the low shrubs wasn't uncommon from the wind, but there was an irregularity to it from the surrounding flora. Instead of swaying with the currents of the air, it shook in the opposite direction and vibrated with a strange peculiarity. From behind the twigs, leaves and branches, I swear I could see the glimmering and sparkling of yellowish white. The hairs on the back of my neck started to stand. Electricity ran through my spine and the sound around me drowned out except for the rapid beating in my chest.

There was a blur of black and brown.

I was barely fast enough to react as I raised up my already ready battle rifle and squeezed the trigger thrice. The Mark 17 kicked hard, firing heavy armor piercing rounds. Reports from the gun fire echoed through the forest I felt the ferocious muzzle blast from Okuda's own unsuppressed short barreled SCAR-H blasting powdery air into my exposed bicep. Dull thuds were loud in my ear just mere milliseconds after we had opened fire. Black tipped bullets struck the ball of fur and muscle. Okuda and I jumped away from each other, hearing the slam of weight into the ground.

"What the hell is that thing?!" Okuda screamed, as he scrambled to his feet.

"Sure isn't a puppy!" I yelled back while rolling over to aim my weapon at the aggressor.

Aiming my weapon at the crouched mound of growling muscle, I flicked the fire selector from semi-automatic to full auto. The SCAR sat between my thighs while the buttstock was tucked tightly against my chest. My hands struggled to control the hectic automatic fire of the battle rifle. Metal and polymer mass jumped erratically while spitting out its lethal payload. Armor piercing bullets penetrated through the fur. Squibs of blood could been seen spraying out from the black pelt. Shimmering locks of hair slick with blood straightened from the impacts. My stomach sank as I saw its long snout turn towards me. Snarled lips revealed rows of saliva covered razor sharp knife-like teeth.

"Is this the Dire Wolf the locals were talking about?!" Okuda screamed as my weapon clicked empty.

"Just kill it already!" I retorted and pushed the magazine release with my index finger.

The heavy polymer magazine dropped onto my abdomen. With a bit of luck, the Dire Wolf turned the other way to stare at Okuda while I maneuvered another magazine into the magazine well of Mark 17. A heavy clang of the bolt slamming forward rang in my ear. The sound made the apex predator snap it growling snout back towards me. I pumped the fastest burst into the face of the beast. Bright yellow orbs turned into bits of red liquid, teeth were pulverized into bits of bone and the fleshy insides of its throat gored with reflective red. A gurgle escaped from the wolf's throat before its mangled face slumped into the ground.

I was panting – hard.

Dusting myself off, I got to my feet. I didn't realize just how big the Dire Wolf was. Being on the ground and almost about to become brunch for a predator with the only animal comparable dating back ten thousand year ago had triggered a primal fear from deep in my gut. Adrenaline still coursed through my body as I ran my hands through the coarse aged pelt. The wolf was old, old enough to be close to the end of its life. Even then, it was just shorter than me while slumped down. I glanced at Okuda to see the Sergeant Major whistle in admiration. Okuda shrugged and patted me on the shoulder.

"Susanowo Actual," came the call.

"Send it," I breathed a reply.

"I heard the gunfire, report," Kida demanded sternly.

"One times Dire Wolf pounced on us for a snack. Never had to prey on something that spat hot brass. End report," I summarized the event for him in brief.

"Roger that, we're a couple dozen meters from checkpoint two. Be ready with the fuel," Kida warned as I zippered the radio in acknowledgement.

"That's strange, they were supposed to be hunting during the night far west from here. What's the deal?" I murmured to myself while inspecting the animal.

Okuda grunted, "global warming, maybe?"

"Funny Okuda, funny. We've only been here a year and if global warming's started, the Earth would have been a scorched a long time ago."

"It's about to be scorched. In all seriousness, something must have driven them from their hunting grounds. Most likely the 1st Combat Unit's drills on the newly designated Schwarz Training Range. The one twenty mike-mike and the one oh five mike-mike must have scared them off since they weren't the biggest bad in the area anymore," Okuda offered a profound speculation on the creature's appearance so close to civilization.

"Didn't peg you for an expert on animal behavior," I squinted at the Sergeant Major.

"I'm not, just overheard one of the med personnel talking. Made me look smarter didn't it? Apparently, he was an animal care specialist. Lots of them here since, you know," Okuda gestured towards the approaching convoy just a couple dozen meters behind us.

It wasn't long before the groaning, moaning and disgruntled sounds of tired men and women could be heard within earshot. Creaking from the heavy duty suspension of the HMVs was loud when they came to a stop. I gestured towards the jerry cans piled in a neat stack just next to our bikes. Candidates both from Earth and the Special Region stared at us while grabbing the fuel cans. I watched their eyes dart from the fuel cans to the two us to the Dire Wolf back to us and then again to the fuel cans, rinse and repeat. We gave them no quarter and stared back passively at the would-be Raiders. The training staff were unfazed by the hulking dead wolf. They continued to scream and shout, whipping the candidates to push for the time limit.

In the midst of the crowd, I spotted the white haired girl steadfast and pouring diesel from the jerry cans into the military Mega Cruiser. Sweat glistened on her skin, marks from the ropes and chains red against her milky white skin, dirt and grime was all over face and limbs. Despite the fatigue and exhaustion, her emerald eyes were focused and determined. Ishihara and Sanada was still springy after dragging the HMVs for kilometers. Having spent all their time running training exercises, going on operations and going through numerous drills with us had prepared them for the trial by fire. Ikeda, Okuda and I ran the entire team hard and made sure we were wound tight.

The duo didn't disappoint.

Gassed up and a short five minute break later, the designated drivers and the first people resting jumped into the vehicles. A turn of the key brought the previously sputtering Toyotas to life. The company loaded their rucks, weapons and extra weight was throwing into the trunk. The rest of the unfueled trucks would have to be dragged, but at least this time they one-fourth of the vehicles weren't just dead weight. And with a little finagling and ingenuity, they would have rigged up a makeshift towing system for the unfueled HMVs.

Panache, Sanada, Ishihara, Myuute, Cora and Growler were all walking. Rinne was sprawled out on the back, panting from exhaustion. The company leader gave the order and they were moving once again, this time at a more expedient pace. At the speed of a slow jog, they took off as two human men and a woman sat down next to the ground beside Okuda and me. All of them were soldiers from the self-defense forces. Half-closed eyes, slumped over backs and drooping shoulders with arms wrapped around their knees signaled their defeat. While the company soldiered on with the training staff, training vehicles and medical jeep, these three awaited their pick-up back to base.

I crouched down in front of the three with a giant bottle mixed with water and powdered Pocari Sweat.

"I'm going to ask one more time," I murmured softly holding the bottle in front of them, "you sure you want to VRF? You sure you want to quit after going through individual week? This is the last few weeks before you're officially a Raider."

"I can't keep up with this tempo Sergeant Raider, it's destroying my body…it's," one of them meekly replied as I finished the sentence for them.

"Too hard?"

"No that's not what I was going to say," the candidate whispered back.

"All I'm hearing are excuses. If that's all you're going to say then we don't need people like you, if you don't mind me being brutally honest. Hope they like quitters back at your home unit. What about you two?" I asked and gestured at the two others with their heads down.

Silence was their answer.

"Alright, drink up. I hope you don't regret this decision tomorrow," Okuda chuckled as they snatched the bottle from my hand.

It wasn't long before they sent a truck out to grab the three dropouts. The three clambered onto the vehicle with heavy bodies while Okuda and I chucked the jerry cans onto the back of the Mega Cruiser. After a friendly chat with the driver, I found out that the Assault Battalion was on its way towards the northwest of Falmart. Operation Bandersnatch was in full swing and I was sure that Sawada was going to be pulled from training staff to deploy as forward reconnaissance for the operation. There was that feeling in my gut, that tug when you know something big was coming your way. Not only that but gossip traveling down the grapevine also pointed towards Special Forces Group Mountain Platoons being deployed as pathfinders to find a suitable flat ground and prepare it for the transport aircraft carrying the vehicles for the IFVs, APCs and HMVs. They had a big checklist of things to do an finding flat ground was the least of the logistics they had to complete.

As we were wrapping up our stay, the sun was crossing over the middle of the sky. A soft yelp escaped from behind me. It was in the same direction as where the Dire Wolf came from. I turned around to hear more whining, the kind you'd hear from your dog when it gets scared or worried. It was a much higher pitch and frequency than the one we killed. That doesn't say much because it didn't make any sound at all. From behind the brush, a wolf as big as a fully grown Golden Retriever nudged at the bigger lifeless frame with its snout. Smaller rounded ears, big glittering eyes and fluffy soft fur screamed at me that this was a pup. Being a dog owner, I didn't want to put any animal into the ground unless they were an actual threat. Most of the wildlife we don't understand fully in this new world while parallels could be drawn.

A worried whine escaped from the pup, tugging at my heartstrings.

"It's just a pup," I breathed, my right hand previously gripped around the rifle dropped to my side.

"What can we do? Let's just leave it Ryu, nature will take of it just like everything else here. Otherwise we'd have to wrestle with it and give it to the vets back on base," Okuda suggested.

I breathed a sigh of frustration, pondering over my decisions. I crouched down and reached into my side pouch usually filled with various snacks and knickknacks. Inside, a single long strip of jerky was pulled out. Jerky was a favorite snack of mine and could be eaten whenever and wherever. I could be aboard a ship surrounded by enemies in the middle of the night performing a clandestine operation and could still snack. Rustling of the plastic wrapper made the pup jump. It's big, round eyes anxiously staring back at me with a high-pitched whine. Small ears flicked in our direction while it pawed at the ground, trying to choose to run or not. Shiny nose crinkled at the smell of the smoky and savory dried meat.

Tentatively and cautiously, the pup approached me.

It sniffed the jerky before licking the dried meat and taking a bite. The orphaned wolf pup likened to the new snack immediately, chewing on it and sucking on it as if it was its mother's teat. I hadn't realized it but the giant pup had its eyes closed. Skinny and weak legs struggled to keep its large frame upright while it whined. It couldn't have been more than a few weeks old at this point. My eyes scanned the forest trying to find out of there was another dire wolf coming to snatch up the newborn.

"Let's wait a few and see if the dad or other moms come," Okuda grumbled and glanced around.

I threw Okuda few pieces of jerky, stood up and dusted myself off, "I'm going to go into the brush and see if I can find their den. If the mother's dead and the other wolves don't show up, the entire litter could die."

"You know that half the litter don't make it through the first year Ryu, what's wrong if you let Mother Nature take her course?" Okuda called after me as I scowled at the older man, "oh right, you're a dog lover and owner. Of course. Go then, go, just don't get hurt, Major."

With a grumble, I stepped into the thick shrub. Sharp branches and leaves cut at my skin. It left a slight stinging and burning sensation. I rolled down my sleeves and tightened the Velcro cuffs as the forest seemed to get thicker and denser with each passing step. The light dimmed from the intense foliage above. Branches rustled with an eeriness that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand. Sound seemed to slip away with each noise making me jump. Even the slightest noise could be heard, the small speck of light seen bright as day and the smell of earth so strong it was punching me in the nose. Trying to find wolf tracks was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Through the dim light, there was hint of the track. Snapped twigs were on the ground with a fresh heavy paw print pressed onto the dirt point back towards the road.

After minutes of careful travel and tracking, my ears perked up at the sound of crunching. It wasn't the typical kind of natural crunch. There was a heft to it, something hard was being crushed. A squished echoed through the forest before the sound of flesh being ripped apart quickly followed. My stomach dropped from the noise and promptly made me raise my rifle. I rolled the rifle over and peered through the transparent window on the magazine to make sure I had enough ammunition. The bright brass rounds sat just above the crudely drawn line marked with a twenty.

Hopefully, it would be enough.

"Find anything yet, Major?" Okuda asked on comms, "you've been gone for a solid thirty minutes. The other wolves aren't going to show up."

Time seemed to move differently in the thickening brush.

I tuned the Sergeant Major out. His voice was muffled by my own breathing and beating heart. Through the rays of light, I made my way to a larger than normal tree. At the base of the bark was a hollowed out hole. A giant hulking frame just as large as the dire wolf I encountered early was hunched over the entrance. Blood was everywhere. On the ground, on the leaves obscuring the hole and the trunk of the tree. Around the entrance littered the lifeless carcasses of pups. Heads were torn off from their bodies, skinny legs were scattered from the constant shaking of their frames, and bits of bone could be seen here and there but the sound crunching bone made gag ever so slightly as I could feel a lump forming in my throat.

 _Sniff._

There was a long inhale of breath from the predator. The giant hunter turned its long goblin-like face towards me. Piercing, glowing blue eyes stared straight at me. It made my stomach drop once more while blood dripped from sharpened teeth. My grip tightened on my rifle. I was hidden in the brush but that could change as easily since the fauna here had an even better sense of smell, sight and hearing that those back on Earth. A long tongue licked the red liquid off from its fangs. The ground shook with each step it took, each one making it that much closer towards me. I began the pull of the trigger, the red reticule of the holosight smacked right between its abnormal goblin face. Its jaws opened and closed with a sickening fleshy smack. Fangs clicked against each other with each motion.

My heart hammered against my rib cage as I felt the trigger go slack.

 _Bang, bang!_

I turned around and started sprinting without looking back.

Branches became sharp daggers slicing at every inch of exposed skin. My foot slipped against the pliable ground. Snapping of tree limbs could be heard behind me. The ground shook with each thunderous stomp of large feet against the dirt like the sound of horse hoofs clomping. I didn't dare look back at something so fierce and so fast. I was the mouse and the beast was the cat. There was presence behind me I could not shake as I slipped and slid around in an attempt to lose the chasing predator. My sense of direction was completely lost. Every tree looked the same and each path similar.

My instincts kicked in and my gut led the way.

"Ryu!" Okuda called out as I burst out through the thick forest, "what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"G-giant wolf…chasing m-me," I panted, out of breath while pirouetting around to jab my assault rifle back towards the forest.

"There's nothing in the forest Ryu but, those cuts are real however. Best get them patched up," Okuda grumbled back in disbelief.

The candidates looked up at me, bewildered at my actions. My eyes narrowed to slits. Doubt started to fog my mind. Did I even see that thing, that unnatural form in the forest? I rolled the rifle over and took a peek into my magazine's plastic window. Brass sat two notches above the twenty mark. I discharged my weapon, but at what? There was no embarrassment or shame at my mistake. It was pure frustration. We had trained to stay calm, stay collected and laser focused. I had lost that for a few moments and clouded my judgement. It was a life lesson in that same form. The wolf pup was whining even more than before, slowly treading over towards me and pressing it's against my thigh.

A chill ran up my spine.

Okuda's eyes locked with mine, "you feel that?"

"What was that?" Okuda murmured back, surprised.

That something would lurk in the forest and would become a threat that the Raiders would have to deal with first hand in the days coming.


	22. Chapter 20: Getting From A to B

AN: It's time again. At the end of this month I'll be updating the fanfiction and since I'll be flying out for my vacation mid-December and not returning until December 20th, I'll be uploading two chapters instead of one at the end of this month. Two for the price of one, kind of. Until then, I hope you continue enjoying 'So We Stand'!

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Chapter 20: Getting From A to B

The first two days of Team Week was a gut check to tell the candidates that the training wasn't over. After completing the HMV drag challenge with minutes to spare, a gauntlet of physical tests pushed them through the days and nights. They ate out of MREs in the forest often wet, caked in dirt and sweat without any fire to keep them warm save for the boiling flameless heating packs. Further infantry fighting tactics, advanced land navigation skills and learning how to develop their memories with the KIMS (Keep in Memory Sniper) game had been taught to keep their minds focused and constantly working.

A series of problems were given to the entire company to solve. Ranging from simple move from point A to point B to complex multilayered operations involving neutral faction contacts with training staff and off-duty personnel filling in as roleplayers and vehicle malfunctions requiring more than just the commanding officer's attention to keep everyone task saturated. The company commander had to cooperate often with his support staff, namely the rotating platoon leaders leading separate squads. Those lacking in leadership skills showed their inability while at the same time those with innate leadership skills thrived during Team Week.

Day three was less of a gut check and more actual training. It would lay the groundwork of advanced training after the Raiders had graduated from the two or so month long selection course. Before learning how to do recon, the candidates would have to know how to get from point A to point B by any means. Basic navigation through long ruck marches by foot through various terrains and seaborne transportation had been covered through the extensive and intimate use of the Zodiac inflatable boat. This time we were making sure the candidates intimately knew the inside and out of the Toyota Mega Cruiser – the workhorse of the JSDF.

The vehicle, once supplied with proper aftermarket parts, could rapidly change in response to different mission perimeters. Working the desert and need a highly mobile fire support platform? Chop the doors off, remove the canvas top, install a turret and add additional mounts of light machine guns, heavy machine guns and anti-tank launchers. Urban environments? No problem. Add-on armor panels and additional plates around the vehicle complete with turret and it was identical to the M1114 up-armored Humvee. The possibilities were endless and cheap compared to the heavy and unmodifiable Komatsu LAV due to the sole operator being Japan. Many aftermarket parts found in the United States market for the Humvee could easily be adapted to suit the HMV with minimal effort.

"Saber 1 passing Hotel at 1049," came a radio transmission as I sat inside one of eight prototypes of the new Type 96 Wheeled Armored Vehicle (Improved).

"Saber 1, Ruler copies, continue on route," the company commander replied.

The improved Type 96 was a command variant bristling with radio communications equipment, computers for the FBCB2 platform tracking the HMVs through a tactical radio network and support for C4I-architecture, satellite terminals and antennae unusable in Range Sierra and a large 40 inch screen flip-up display to brief officers and soldiers on upcoming missions and operations. The most important thing to me was the air-conditioning system that was installed along with all the other whizz-bang technology doodads.

It wasn't much of a problem if you were operating in fair weather around a small landmass like Japan and its islands. But when you start deploying to other operational theaters that wasn't so accommodating like the jungles and the desert, extreme heat cooked up the protective armor plates like a frying pan and soon enough you'd wish to be shot in the head rather sit in a metal oven. In our assignment to go survey and eliminate any threats to the Japanese Expeditionary Force following us south in the upcoming years, we were assigned ten vehicles to lead that expedition. Most of them were fast armored vehicles – IFVs, APCs and tank hunters to deal with larger and unknown threats. We drove, fielded and used anything we could get our hands on and that extended to rotary and fixed-wing aircraft. But in all of their wisdom, the self-defense force didn't fit air-conditioning units to anything that was armored.

The Type 89 Infantry Fighting Vehicles and Type 16 Maneuver Combat Vehicles were unsuited to fighting in the desert or jungle. Any place with any sort of heat broke the vehicles and the crew manning it down. The Type 89 was built in the 80s. With age and neglect, they weren't upgraded in the same manner as their western counterparts. Passive night vision and periscopes were still being used during the night time with simple electronics used to aim the main gun with excellent precision. The Type 16 MCV, although new, was never meant to be used in foreign terrain or transported by air. Only one of the tank hunters could be ferried through the air on the Kawasaki C-2s. Along with a manually loaded gun, there were qualms about its off-road capability. The requested life extensions and upgrades were too late for the Type 89 and Type 16 unlike the prototyping Type 96. Aged equipment would have to be torn out, hulls redesigned and add-on equipment fitted to already tight spaces.

Instead, my father, the Special Forces Group liaison commanding officer and the Ministry of Defense brokered a deal with the United States Army and the Bundeswehr. Two M1128 Stryker Mobile Gun Systems, two of their armored down M2A4 Bradleys and newly minted Leopard 2A7Vs would be loaned to us in exchange for being the first nation to have survey the land beyond Falmart, hence my father's posting as an ODB (Operational Detachment – Bravo) commander. Superior experience and time in hot and high environments made the Strykers, Bradleys and Leopards suited for the mission profile in addition to their extraordinary networking capabilities that the Japanese armored vehicles lacked not to mention their ability to be easily transported by air. The right equipment for the job. Assigned to us would be a small squad of eight engineers sent to the Western militaries ahead of time to learn how to maintain their vehicles.

Our unit was starting to grow large, being platoon-sized in strength.

"Inflate the targets for engagement zone six when Saber 3, 4 and 5 reach point Lima," Okuda advised the supervising staff, "redirect Sabers 3 to support. Then order the Special Forces Group Team 'Breachers' to ambush Sabers 1 and 2 with dummy targets."

The candidates were split into two groups of three vehicles traveling on a route towards an objective three hundred kilometers away. Each platoon was rotated out their leaders for the operation with the entire company's commanding officer sitting inside another APC beside us with his command staff. They had to negotiate terrain, meet time tables and execute mission orders to the letter while attempting to reach their lookout point. Embedded within each of the two platoons were training staff to make sure the candidates weren't cutting corners while medical trucks followed closely behind to monitor their health. Their final objective was to scope out an empty makeshift encampment before assaulting it if we gave the green light by tomorrow.

Simple pop-up targets were installed along their route and were operated by the training staff inside the APCs. Sizes varied from human targets all the way to tank silhouettes. It was a huge logistical effort to operate a training range of this size. But, with the help from the logistical corps, we got the job done. I watched the staff send a short message to the company commander before the ordered his men to execute the change. Blips on the screen flashed in the acknowledgement received via the tactical radio link. Sanada, Ishihara and the rest of the Special Region personnel were riding in Saber 1. Saber 1 was commanded by a senior Master Sergeant hailing from a reconnaissance company. While used to the rapidly changing tempo of reconnaissance, he was about to be attacked without his trusty Type 87 Armored Reconnaissance Vehicle used by the trained recon commandos.

"Feels like a board game," Okuda grumbled, rubbing the growing and graying stubble on his chin and above his lip, "so this is what it feels like to be you, huh Major?"

"Please, I'm down and dirty with the grunts. I've never had to command from the back," I chuckled and nibbled on jerky while staring at the moving blips on a computer screen.

"Joudan (it's a joke). It's good to sit back and enjoy the air-con for a bit," Okuda smiled back with a groan as a loud clank was hear from the ramp door.

"You heard what Akagi and Kazuki found out yet?" Ige asked, poking his head through the opening door.

"No, why?" I replied, the SBU member beckoned the two of us out of the chilled compartment of the Type 96.

Disconnecting my headset from the radio stack, I stepped outside and into the slightly warmer exterior. I took a breath of fresh, thin mountain air.

It was crisp – clean.

Untainted by pollution, for the time being. The strange continent of Falmart stretched far below me in a canvas of blue, brown and green. The cloudless sky was brisk with the fall wind, blowing small rocks and pebbles down the mountain top. We had parked far above the other mountains in an attempt to have some line of sight with the vehicles operating down below in and around the Roldom Valley.

The low roar of patrolling fighter jets could be heard growling overhead as they got ready to go low and fast. The valley was a favorite for JASDF pilots with its tight, snaking passes and a mixture of varying mountain peaks. It was the Jedi Transition of Alnus. After a series of low flybys, people from the neighboring villages and cities started to flock towards the pass in hopes of catching a glimpse of strange machines that rode the air. Both the F-2s and F-4s frequently traversed the pass at blistering speeds for low-altitude training in addition to the AH-64 attack helicopters and OH-1 scout helicopter. A small group of people dotted the peaks here and there in preparation, but today they would get to experience the firepower of mechanized assault infantry in its infancy as well.

The ramp closed back up with a loud clank as Ige breathed a heavy sigh, "Kazuki just called. The two of them rode back to Japan in one of the trucks earlier today to meet with SAT members and the internal affairs police."

"And?" Okuda grumbled inquisitively, taking a bite of his singular semi-mushy green tea KitKat bar saved up from earlier in the day.

"An unknown number of analysts, high level agents and officials have been paid off by the Chinese. Not only that but they've uncovered a network of invisible children. Apparently, the Triads and the Chinese Intelligence planted a few of them everywhere. It seems they want any Special Region information, materials and natives pretty hard after Diabo ran from the deal with the Chinese. So much so that they're paying thousands of Yen for information and hundreds of millions for a live person," Ige explained, rubbing his short hair filled with sweat.

"What do you mean 'a live person'? They'd pay for dead corpses too? That's just sick Ige," I spat with disgust.

Just the thought of it was repulsing. Scientists and doctors standing over dead bodies, dissecting them to see if they were any different to the humans that walked on Earth. Trying in earnest to find the magic where there might be none. If not dissect then interrogate for information. Maybe they were just operating on the theory of 'throw enough shit at the wall and something might stick'. And that enough 'shit' was bodies from the Special Region, dead or alive after they'd extracted all the information they needed from a living being.

A shiver ran up my spine at the thought.

"It is what it is. When you've got that tight of a grip on information and you hear of magic, who wouldn't want to get some for themselves if it meant dissecting a couple hundred natives?" Ige replied nonchalantly as he knew it to be true.

"That's a grim and depressing thought. They give any names?" Okuda asked while stuffing the wrapper into his spare pouch.

"Police are keeping their mouth shut. Akagi and Kazuki said their keeping it in-house, hoping that they can sweep it under the rug before it gets any more out of hand. Their IA (Internal Affairs) and PR department is in a frenzy at the moment. Overworked and understaffed," Ige replied.

"They'll succeed in hiding their shame but how much of it would be dug up by the reporters before they manage to completely hide it? When you start to unravel the web, everything that's hidden starts to come to light. Hopefully they'll get it sorted before the reporters are attached to us," I scoffed, perking up upon hearing crackling and snapping in the distance.

"Only time will tell," shrugged Okuda and turned to look at the Roldom Valley, "looks like it's started."

We turned our attention to the valley below. Pulling up my binoculars, I peered through the glass to see small streaks of red crisscrossing the air a fair distance away. They sailed from what seemed like small little boxes smaller than an ant. Between slim tree barks and grassy ground, I could barely make out the vehicles from the terrain. Only their tracer fire ricochets, impacts and overspray could be seen impacting dirt or sailing at an angle into the air after a bounce. I felt detached from the exercise. Like an observer looking on from outside, this was very much of what we were – teachers and observers.

Being this far back behind the action felt strange. It was an experience I wasn't fond of. From kilometers away, I couldn't tell with my eyes what was going on except through displays, radio communications and the vague evolving battle map in my imagination. It was different to us calling down supporting indirect fire. What we were doing was watching a game of baseball through binoculars without being able to see the field or the players, just the baseball sailing through the air every now and then.

My lips pressed into a thin line from a mixture of concentration and the frustration of being unable to survey the training exercise. Okuda had retreated back into the air-conditioned armored command post of the APC while Ige mulled around outside. I could tell that the Maritime Self-Defense Force member was deep in thought contemplating about the PSIA entire incident. There was no telling how deep the rabbit hole went. And when senior staff members were in on the job, it was one that had the potential to be very, very deep and equally as wide.

"I'm going to go down there and ghost Saber 3, you coming with?" I asked Ige.

"Might as well. If I'm not teaching, you and I are just here supervising while Ikeda and Okuda control the exercises," Ige grunted back a reply.

My Mark 17 SCAR, plate carrier and battle belt were retrieved from the mobile command post. Ikeda was busy inside coordinating with the staff while Okuda listened in on comms and continually advised due to his past experience as an instructor. A simple gesture told the Sergeant Major what I was doing. He nodded without saying a word.

The cramped rear was occupied by the two team members and four other support members. Laptops occupied their attention, mounted on swing arms while the center aisle accommodated large computers, receivers and radios. Two Type 96 Improved APCs were part of the Headquarters platoon driven out for the two day exercise. Two Komatsu LAVs stood guard with their M2 Browning HMGs while two supply trucks provided the power through generators, food and supplies. Rounding out the platoon were two proof of concept Toyota HMVs fitted to desert operating conditions.

Those two HMVs had been our homes since the first day of training after we had ditched the bikes at the end of the first exercise.

Unlike the training days of when the drill sergeant had drilled into our heads to keep our vehicles clean – they were a completely mess. The skeletonized Mega Cruiser had its doors torn off. Door frames were welded with extra seats added to allow four to sit inside similar to the American Humvee with a large hump running down the middle housing extra storage space and acting as a platform for the turret gunner to stand on.

A rear enclosure with high walls ran down the sides to shelter the equipment, items and ammunition from falling out. Inside the enclosure and on the truck bed were sloppily rolled up sleeping bags. Surrounding those sleeping bags were a myriad of miscellaneous items – an extra Mark 48 light machine gun just lying there with a cloth ammo bag attached to it but the belt not inside the metal tray, one Panzerfaust anti-tank rocket launcher, a portable M224A1 mortar with its payload stored in scattered metal boxes, one single M3A1 Carl Gustav recoilless rifle along with its rocket assisted shells sitting in twin plastic containers among other things. It looked like pigsty with our belongings strewn everywhere.

If we ever were going to deploy to Afghanistan, this was what would have carried into battle.

Sawada, Mimi and Moon snoozed blissfully in the second HMV.

Sawada was without a job for the week since he was part of the Western Army Infantry Regiment. The WAIR sharpshooter was on standby along with a dozen other Special Forces snipers to be called on to do the job of surveillance, reconnaissance and pathfinding for the battalion staging for the high-value snatch and grab operation.

Even though Taka was without a job, he was still training Mimi and Moon after they had decided to stick to us. The sniper had found out that they had prior education as would-be assassins following their sister's footsteps. Although they weren't to their sister's levels, they were still skilled in the art of deception and stealth. Both catgirls were sponges when it came to teaching. Knowledge was absorbed easily and before long, they had become the best stalkers in the entire Special Forces region. For the upcoming days, Sawada had the monumental task of teaching them mathematics and weapons training.

"Sawada!" I yelled out to the HMV parked a couple or so meters away from us just behind the cliff face.

"Hrmm…yes, Major?" replied a groggy Master Sergeant on the team radio.

"I'm going to shadow the candidates, you want to join us?" I asked, responding on the same channel.

"Yeah, yeah, gimme a sec," grumbled back Sawada, "we taking both HMVs or just…one?"

"Just the one."

Moments later, Sawada hopped out with the two girls. In both of hands were Pelican cases, the M107A1 and the M2010. Mimi and Moon rubbed at their sleepy eyes. In their arms were HK417 in the new US Army M110A1 furniture. It surprised me at first at just how big the weapons were compared to them. I was massive by Japanese standards, everything looked small since I was over one hundred and eighty centimeters tall. But the weapons looked oversized on the girl's frame let alone the smallest sized load bearing vest dangling from their torsos. All of them had packed up their personal gear into their packs and were transferring them over to my HMV.

"You guys have a good sleep?" I asked, watching them throwing the equipment into the enclosure.

"As good as the GSDF will ever give us," Sawada mumbled, "not really when you constantly hear the crackle of gunfire."

"We slept pretty late. Sawada was teaching us how to use the scope and math," yawned Mimi, the eldest of the twins jumping onto the rear seat.

"We know how to fire the big guns though," Moon pointed out in her stereotypical deadpan tone.

"Been busying yourself, haven't you?" I laughed and ruffled her bed head before hopping into the passenger seat after Ige forced himself into the driver's seat.

"I've got to do something for this week. On pins and needles waiting for high command to give the order to any of the SF snipers in the region," Sawada replied.

"Where too, boss?" Ige asked.

Glancing at the laptop screen, I answered, "take us to Saber 3. Circle around back and ghost them from about one fifty meters."

"Aye, aye," came the simple acknowledgement.

The HMV grumbled to life.

As Ige backed up from the ridge we had parked on, I turned on the radio stack and shoved the radiophone between my helmet and ears after I had moved the Comtacs out of the way. The air was electric with constant chatter. Command talked to the operating candidates in their Mega Cruisers, exchanging information on position, observations and movement. We trundled down the mountain pass at speed. Rattling shook the vehicle as we negotiated rough terrain. Fresh dirt, small rocks and gravel slapped against the metal frame. The winding mountain trail down allowed me to take in the early morning scenery.

Trees of green spanned across the precipitous hills and craggy mountains. Sounds of dull crackling gun fire and bangs of explosions echoed throughout the valley, shattering the serene silence it once held. Chilled air nipped at my exposed arms as we descended downwards. Loose rocks tumbled over the edge of the mountains, disturbed by the three ton truck thundering through it. I could taste the morning dew like a thick chilled soup. Large elephant sized rams ascended up the mountain below us. Thick, rough whitish furs ruffled with each movement. They hopped up with graceful, easy in search of greener pastures, ignoring the loud and roaring metal box traveling down the mountain.

The picturesque view was worth just being here.

I glanced back to see Mimi eyeing the mounted and converted Sumitomo M249. Fortunately, the rear two seats had half doors that allowed the catgirl to sit with her legs folded beneath her. Even with the added height from her sitting position, the medium machine gun was level with her throat. She would have to stand to even operate the weapon. Sawada was opposite of her, the sniper already asleep even while being jostled around by the irregular dips, bumps and rolls of the mountain. We had the Mark 47 Striker mounted on the turret ring with a gun shield. Running around with a thousand rounds of ammunition for the machine guns, a couple hundred for the grenade launcher and assorted heavy weapons was overkill for just about anything normal in the Range Sierra.

But, normal was anything but in Rang Sierra.

"Moon, you comfortable back there?" I asked on the team radio and glanced back to see the younger twin curtly nod.

If it were not for elastic straps securing the neatly shelved metal boxes of ammunition in their bins, just about everything would be flying into Moon. The heavy weapons rolled around in the rear of the vehicle with loud rattles and bangs. Boxes containing our MREs rustled with the contents inside being thrown around from the jostling. Moon gripped on to her marksman rifle with one hand while the other was on the rear frame of the cabin. The Mark 48 was rock solid on the swing arm mounted on the door frame to my left. No amount of punishment would dislodge the weapon mount short of an explosion. Each and everything that was bolted into the HMV itself seemed to rattle and shake with the vehicle. It was nothing compared to what we were going to use it for just months after.

"Okuda," I called.

No response.

"Okuda, do you copy?" I called again.

"You're not transmitting," Ige laughed, turning the vehicle onto grass as we reached the base of the mountain.

With a grumble, I glanced down at the radio sitting snuggly in its pouch, "you're joking. I just charged the damn thing. It was just working, bloody hell."

"Well looks like you didn't or the charger doesn't work," chuckled the SBU member.

"Moon!" I yelled to get her attention, "look at the right shelf! The one with the travel ruck, see if you can find me another battery like this one!"

I waved the bulky, rectangular battery to see her nod in reply. After seeing her start rummaging around for a spare, I pulled out the radio and slapped it into the base station. The AN/VRC-110 was bulky and unwieldy. It sat on top of two other radio stacks and obscured most of my view to Ige with the laptop screen eating most of the space in between us. Despite all the technological innovations and miniaturizations, the radio stacks we had were still bulky, large and massive. Without satellite communications, we had to use powerful transmitters just to be heard hundreds of kilometers and even then, there was the obstacle of terrain. Radio communications were a huge deal. Without the old satellite backbone to support and supplement the radios, communications interference, blackouts and gaps were commonplace. Getting stuck in the middle of nowhere with no support and low on ammunition was an inevitability for a unit operating far from any friendly units.

This is what we, the Japanese Special Forces Group, the infant Raiders and the other specialized infantry units trained for.

"Okuda," I spoke once more with the radio receiving power from the base stand extended the range of the radio while also simultaneously charging it.

The long recharge time meant that even if it was receiving power, as soon as I pulled it off the stand and placed it on my person, it wouldn't last nearly as long as it's advertised fourteen hours.

"Okuda, send traffic," came the terse reply.

"Susanowo Actual is at the base of the hill. Northwest bound towards the valley towards Saber 3's pos," I reported to the Sergeant Major to hear him zipper his microphone in reply.

"Looks like he's busy," Ige commented, "probably got his hands full now that all victors are engaging targets."

A simple grunt was my reply.

The vehicle continued to rumble onwards, speed across open fields of grass before we were engulfed in the mahogany brown barks of trees. Many trails had been carved out into the forests. Snaking dirt paths with patches of grass poking in between the brown curved between trees large oaks and olives. Different paths meant having less likelihoods of encountering bandits, thieves and caravan raiders along the way. In a dense forest, many of the bandits lurked in the shadows but I've never actually seen one attacking any of the convoys. News of them were rumors, hushed whispers used to scare the kids and the foreigners to the land. They might have been a problem once, but not anymore. Even with the threat of being waylaid gone, the trails were still unused.

After all, this was also home to the dark elves long ago before the Flame Dragon had burned down their village.

As we trundled into dimmed dark embrace of the thick foliage, the air thickened even more so. The stifling air had the strong smell of earth and moisture but there was a scent I could never really place my finger on. Was it the acrid hint of smoke or the noxious smell of rotting flesh? The bluing sky was tinged a dull red by the aging leaves of the tree. Rays of the sun had caught the mature vegetation, casting its tinted warmth in scattered fragments along the trail. I could feel the abnormality of the forest. There was a subconscious hum, whispers that filled my ear, shapes that darted within the shadows. Bewailed moans echoed thought the forest sending chills up my spine. The sounds were never loud. They all seemed to emanate barely audibly from underneath the ambiance of the forest.

I could tell that Ige felt the same uncomfortable sensation. Squeals from his gloves tightening around the steering wheel was loud in the hushed silence. Mimi and Moon's ears sat straight up, flicking anxiously all around us. Their tails were raised in a rigid line behind him with frantic eyes scanning the dark of the forest. Even Sawada, who previously slept through everything, was up and alert. Then, there was that chill again, that sensation that shot electricity throughout my body making the hairs on my arms and neck stand. I gulped and realized my throat was completely dry despite the oppressive moisture. Something wasn't quite right and now I understood why no one took this neglected trail.

My hand went towards the Mark 48, pulling the mount lock free.

A loud clank rang in the forest like a giant gong being hit with a mallet. The sound traveled for what seemed like minutes reverberating and bouncing off everything in the thick woodland. I had a death grip on the Mark 48, pulling the light machine gun in close and into my shoulder. The scaled-up brother of the M249 was cold to the touch having sat through the cold night. It begged to be fired. Covered in droplets of water, the light machine gun was oiled up and well-maintained having never fired a single shot from it after its last few cleanings. Condensation fogged up the sights of the Specter M145. Wiping away the moisture, I peered through the illuminated optics to find bright blue orbs staring right back at me from within the depths of the murky black shadows. Another shot of electricity ran across my body, that same sensation.

"Something's wrong, I'm getting us the hell out of here," Ige grumbled and shifted the vehicle into high gear.

"I agree, Aniki," Sawada whispered, his voice barely loud enough over the sounds of the Schwarz Forest.

As if the forest had sensed our urge to flee, the blue floating spheres multiplied. Like stars in the night, bluish sparkles dotted the entire horizon. There wasn't just a handful of them. This was a horde of those beasts. A low, guttural growl rumbled in my ear before a gut-wrenching roar made my stomach drop. The blue eyes turned red.

I turned to Sawada who was climbing onto the mounted turret. He pulled the charging chain like he was starting a lawnmower. One of the heavy forty millimeter grenade shells smacked against my helmet before falling harmlessly into the HMV's floor between my feet.

Things were getting serious.

"Garm!" Mimi shrieked, her high-pitched voice sending the lurking beasts into a frenzy.

"Contact right, contact right! Hit'em with the forty!" I yelled to alert Sawada while I pulled the Mark 48 to aim into the forest.

"I've got them at one fifty! Sending it!" Sawada reported.

 _Thump! Thump! Thump!_

The sniper fired in three round bursts. Each shot shook the vehicle from the heavy handed recoil. It rocked the vehicle slightly, not enough to affect it but it was enough for it to be noticeable. I watched the shells being lobbed into the darkened areas of the woods. Lethal forty millimeter shells curved with deadly grace before detonating in a flash of bright yellow. A plume of brownish dirt mixed with red mist was immediately kicked up following the detonation of the explosives. A second round landed just a few meters to the right just mere seconds later before lighting up the trees with the same yellow flash. Tree barks splintered from the explosive blast, throwing shrapnel into the briefly visible roughened fur of the charging beasts. Blazing hot shrapnel tore into their furry pelts with ease. Pained howls rippled through the forests as the wounded came crashing down into the dirt.

"Actual, what's going on? I'm hearing weapons fire just a klick or two from the CP," Okuda inquired over the radio stack's speakers.

"Troops in contact! Third trail cutting through the Schwarz Forest. Reporting multiple aggressive fauna known as Garms! Look for the flare!" I yelled into the radio, pushing the cross-bolt safety on the light machine gun.

"Flare out!" Sawada screamed, grabbing the small flare gun and aiming it into sky.

 _Pop!_

Luckily, the burning hot pyrotechnic sailed through the thick branches and into the sky, lighting up the morning with an intense red.

I took aim at the bounding shadows, aiming roughly in the direction of the pair of red orbs snaking and barreling towards us. Leading just ahead of them, I squeezed the trigger. The Mark 48 let out a deep but sharp staccato. Each round could be felt as it kicked with crisp jabs to the shoulder. Most of the recoil had been taken out by the swing arm but each bang of the bullet could still be felt. Every fifth round was a bright red streak, I watched the tracer zip towards the shape before striking it square in the chest and below the pair of bloody red. The burning red tracer was immediately extinguished after burying itself in flesh. More seemed to be coming out of the darkness with each passing second in ones and twos. I swung the machine gun left and right, holding down the trigger in longer bursts in an attempt to hit more targets.

The whispered hush of the M110A1 was smothered by the other sounds of combat. I saw Mimi supporting her marksman rifle against the door, standing to clear the high cover. Moon was crouched at the rear gate of the enclosure. Both were furiously pumping out rounds into the forest with inaccurate suppressing fire. They haven't been taught how to fire from a moving platform yet. If anything, the girls were observant. Between bursts, I glanced over to see them walking their shots wider and wider to compensate for the movement of our vehicle and the target. Before long, instead of missing all of their shots, one or two were starting actually strike the Garms. Just as I looked back through the illuminated crosshairs of the M145, all fire stopped.

The beasts have disappeared.

"Where'd they go?" I asked, confused.

There was no trace they were even there except for the pulverized barks of scarred trees.

"They're still here…" Mimi murmured as I watched her ears twitching, "over there!"

Sawada swung the Mark 47 around in its turret. Pointed to the rear, I decided to move backwards. It was a tight fit, trying to climb in between the narrow space of the radio stack, Sawada's legs and Mimi's standing body before tumbling into the rear truck bed. I knocked my helmeted head against the Carl Gustav without much repercussion. The rattling continued as I scrambled around for the spare Mark 48 we kept around for when we had to dismount. Loaded and fitted with attachments, the Mark 48 Mod 1 was as heavy as a small sausage dog. I muscled the weapon into my shoulder and pulled out the telescopic stock. Unlike the swing arm mounted machine gun, this Mark 48 was fitted with a holosight designed for close quarters combat.

"They're flanking rear, I can see them on thermals! They're masking their movements somehow through normal light!" Sawada reported, yelling over the roaring of the turbocharged diesel engine.

"Mimi, get set-up with your sister. If they're going to hit us from the rear, we'll hit them first," I ordered, seeing the catgirl crawling through the space between the well cushioned seat and Sawada's legs.

"Okuda's rerouting the nearest victors towards us! Saber 1 and 2 are on the way, the rest are continuing their training mission!" Ige screamed as I placed the vertical foregrip on the rear gate.

"Let's just hope we don't need their help…" I breathed out a calming breath to stabilize my aim.

"How long until we're at the clearing?!" Sawada screamed.

"Few minutes tops!" Ige answered.

"Can you hear them?" I whispered to the two catgirls flanking me.

"Not them, exactly," Moon explained in a monotonous tone while her ears were constantly erect like giant satellite dishes, "I can't hear their foot falls but I can hear everything _around_ them. The branches snapping, the leaves crunching under their paws, the leaves against their fur and the wind flowing around them."

"Their stench is overpowering too. All I can smell right now is just blood, old and new like they were swimming or…bathing in it," Mimi added, her nose crinkling as she sniffed the air and brought her hands to cover them, "it smells disgusting."

Crouched at the rear gate, I was bent over the Mark 48. I gripped the firearm's side against the heavy metal slabs while my cheek rested on the cold metal piping of the telescopic stock. The enclosure was at thigh height since I was so abnormally tall. Unlike me, the twins had to stand to rest their weapons against the corners. Their HK417s had been configured closely to the M110A1 standard the United States Army was starting to field. Deadly quiet while suppressed and compact enough for the amount of firepower it brought unlike its unwieldy cousin the G28, which was a couple centimeters longer in addition to being much lighter. It was the perfect fit for the teenage girls.

Bright light blinded my eyes as I felt the vehicle leap. A sensation of weightlessness before the hard crash accompanied by the slamming of my helmet against the light machine gun's titanium frame. Moments would pass before my eyes adjusted. Feeling the three ton HMV drifting against the loose dirt, I reached out my hand to grip the gate and stabilize myself. Funny enough, without a heavy load on the back of the Mega Cruisers, the maneuver would have tipped the truck over since it was so front heavy. All of the team members had mastered the art of offensive, defensive and off-road driving, to push the Toyota to its fullest potential.

"They didn't follow us out," Sawada panted, barely audible over the growling, idling engine.

"They're not stupid Sawada-jichan (Old Man Sawada). They're actually frightening smart for evil hounds," Mimi added as we started shifting towards the front of the vehicle.

"Usually we only hear of them in rumors or in ghost stories. I didn't think they were real but…now I know why. I don't think anyone survived any ambush that caught them by surprise," Moon explained further.

"But they usually attack in packs of four to six, I've never heard of them ambushing people in these numbers," Mimi murmured.

"See anything?" I yelled, tossing the weapon weighing similar to a bowling ball to Ige.

"Some flashes of white here and there," reported the sniper, "I can't tell exactly where they are but it looks like their masking themselves from thermals now as well…"

"Un-fucking-believable," I muttered in English to myself.

There was a lull to the merciless chase.

They were regrouping, and so were we.

We took the time to prepare ourselves to whatever was coming. I had Mimi and Moon move off of their single-fire accurized marksman rifles and onto our primary weapons, my Mark 17 SCAR-H fitted with an under barrel grenade launcher and Ige's suppressor equipped HK417C. I pulled out the locking pin from the Mark 48's pintle mount, lifting the weapon off the swing arm. It was a solid bag of bricks in my arms. Without a vertical grip, I would have to strong arm the weapon while contending with its heavy recoil. I respected the two 1st Airbornemen for being able to fire the weapon accurately and efficiently while standing upright or crouched. While heavy, hard to control and bulky, the up-gunned bigger brother of the M249 brought a volume of fire and firepower that was unmatched. Unless one wanted to carry the heavier Sumitomo NTK-62.

I placed the weapon on the hood of the HMV before sauntering back towards the rear of the vehicle to snatch the world renowned Carl Gustav. Made lighter and more compact by the United States Marine Corps, the reloadable recoilless rifle was a much better choice than the disposable Panzerfaust 3 and its venerable and heavier domestically produced older brother– the Howa 84RR. Unlike the one trick pony Panzerfaust, the M3E1 Carl Gustav could sling rocket assisted explosive shells so long as you had the ammunition. They were carried in polymer tubes in pairs of two. Usually with one high explosive and one high explosive anti-tank charges.

The heavy weapons launcher was shoved between the seat and the door frame, fitting just loosely enough for me to pull out in an emergency. I littered four cases of the Carl Gustav's ammunition on the floor. Mimi and Moon stood next to me while Ige instructed the pair on the operation of the rifles. A loose fitting load bearing vest was wrapped around Mimi like an oversized turtleneck with the sleeves torn off. Fitted to the MOLLE straps were forty millimeter grenade bandoliers, six on both sides and four more on the chest with magazines for the SCAR on the abdomen. I had three different types of plate carriers lying around in different configurations for various types of operations. All of them were set up similarly with radio, admin and minor equipment pouches, flexible and stiff antennas across the back for the two radios I used and the knife holsters in the same places.

"Susanowo 4, go for message," I heard Ige speak, interrupting his instruction with the twins, "roger that. I'll relay the message to Actual. Everything's quiet as of five mikes ago. Tangos have been masking their thermal signature somehow so we haven't been able to get a clear bearing on their direction. We've been posturing up at the resting point the locals use near the exit to the southeast. We'll update as the situation evolves. Susanowo 4 out."

"That Okuda?" I asked, placing the Mark 48 on the comfortably padded aftermarket seat.

"Yeah, told me to relay to you that Saber's CO on the ground is keyed in on our freq. They'll be here in five or so mikes with the rest of the candidates under his command. Hopefully nothing comes out of…whatever this is," Ige sighed fiddling with his shark tooth hanging around his neck on a paracord.

"You think these guys are ready for combat?" I asked before gesturing for Ige to get into the HMV, "bring the truck around so that the passenger seat's facing the tree line will you."

Ige grumbled, brows scrunched together while he got into the vehicle and maneuvered it sideways. The forest was back to its silent and eerie quietness with the occasional brushing of leaves and branches whispering in my ears. Even the HMV's idling engine was deafeningly loud in the silence. I scanned the tree line, pulling down the Enhanced Night Vision Goggles in attempt to catch a glimpse of anything. Red filled the thermal vision mode of the goggles. In a span of a few minutes, a mist had covered the entire south of the forest. Mist may not have been the right word but it was a warm fog that prevented thermal imaging solutions from penetrating the veil. Either this was a natural phenomenon or magic was involved, I was hoped it was the former and not the latter.

"I'm optimistic that the candidates will do well. After all, they passed the individual selection," Ige replied as I grunted back in satisfaction.

"Ryu, here's the battery you wanted back in the forest," Moon muttered under her breath, the battery big in her small hands.

"Thanks kiddo," I smiled and patted her on the head to receive a cheerful purr.

I snatched the radio from its station, leaving the uncharged battery in place and slipping the spare into the base. My thumb held down the power button. Seconds passed as I felt my frustration growing. Lips pressed together in concertation and growing impatience from the stifling, heated air. It was starting to get hard to breathe.

"I swear, whoever made batteries and chargers for these things need to go back and make sure they work before issuing it to us," I growled and smacked the radio back into its charging station, "it's always the communications that fail first! If not that, the NODS!"

"Murphy's Law, Major!" Sawada yelled from behind me.

"We're about to get a taste of Murphy's Law in a few minutes if this mist keeps spreading," Ige muttered with a minor growl.

"You guys got the three four three on you?" I asked to see the two men nod.

"Always got it my body Major, don't you?" Ige asked.

"Didn't think I'd actually need it today," I grumbled, moseying towards the rear of the Mega Cruiser to pull out the lightweight personal radio.

A few moments passed before I heard Sawada yell, "Boss, I've got movement! My ten o'clock to two o'clock, all across the tree line!"

My hands swiftly pulled down the monocular goggle to peer into the misty white. Most of the view screen was awash with dull red overlaid on blinding white. But every now and then, I could catch glimpses of orange and shapes of flickering pixelated red. Something was circling the forest in front of us. We were a mere hundred fifty or so meters away in a clearing that stretched for a few hundred meters behind and around us. The wide open plain sat on a shallow slope of a hill where the HMV was parked. Behind us was deceptively flat terrain with dips and bumps thick with ankle high grass a small dog could hide in. Any trails left among the dirt were grown over and the forest was once again untouched.

I licked my lips, crouching down at the edge of the slope and placed the LMG on my lap. The two girls stood next to me. Whites of their knuckles could be seen against the grip of the rifles. Their ears were perked and twitching with each passing second. The absence of noise was odd. Having no transmission to listen to from other units felt alien. Whenever I was in the field, the jabber and chatter over the net calmed my nerves. It was white noise for me to drown out and sometimes it was funny to listen to two commanding officers or newly minted butter bared lieutenants bicker over the airwaves.

None of that was here.

Ige unconsciously turned into my radiotelephone operator. Having to receive and send messages, his eyes were focused on the tree line while his ears were constantly listening for any tidbit of information he could glance from the approaching vehicle column and the command unit.

"Ryu!" Mimi yelped in surprise.

I snapped towards the forest.

Blurs had appeared from the mist, dozens of feet in the air. I felt my arms bulge from the heavy weight as I brought the Mark 48 to bear. A click sounded positively in my ears. I squeezed the trigger without hesitation, letting loose a couple rounds in short bursts. The unsupported machine gun punched at my shoulder. Rattling in my hands, the Mark 48 had a loud and sharp bark. Powerful rounds found their mark on the leaping blurs. Splatters of red and the crunch of breaking bones were clear in the booming sounds of gunfire. Lifeless beasts slamming in the grass with a dull thud. Ige opened up with his own weapon, firing rapidly into the shapes darting on the ground. Mimi and Moon spilt their targets. They shot whatever was closer. It was funny to see the small catgirls being able to utilize our weapons with such little instruction. They had cranked off more rounds than most Sergeants in the JGSDF at this point in time and would be doing so even more frequently in the future.

"I've got some large thermal sigs from the forest," Sawada reported, "two large on your two o'clock!"

A finger curling roar ripped through the trees with a primordial ferocity. It was one of the few moments where I was reminded by the Special Region that I was no longer at the top of the food chain.

Shifting my aim, I fired blindly into the mist in the general direction of the sound. This time, I didn't fire in short bursts. I held down the trigger and pushed into the light machine gun with all of my body. My body shook, arms burned from the weight, cheek numbed and hands quivered with the recoil.

 _Click!_

"Reloading!" I screamed, yanking the charging handle rearwards.

"It's still there, boss!" Sawada warned while I threw the cloth ammo sack into the Mega Cruiser and retrieved another, "I'll slam it with the Mark 47 and see if it disappears!"

 _Thump! Thump! Thump!_

There was no warning this time as Sawada let loose the grenade launcher. I was panting, hurrying to load the empty weapon. Shaking hands pushed the belt into the feed lips and slammed the cover down. A satisfying clank and clack loud in my ears. There wasn't a moment to waste as I snatched the tube I jammed between the seat and the HMV's frame and one of the polymer cases, running behind the two girls. Mimi and Moon glanced over momentarily as I skidded to a stop. Mud, grass and wet dirt caked my multicam trousers.

"You still see it?!" I screamed into the team radio.

"Still there!" Sawada yelled back after a short pause.

Peering through the optics, I had the ENVG down over my left eye. It was disorienting looking through a hazy film of red in one eye and a misty magnified white with gray black shadows in the other. I looked around until I found a blob of red large enough to fill a coin-sized spot on the goggle before flicking off the safety. A glance backwards, confirmed nothing was standing in the way of the Carl Gustav's back blast. Popped ears, hemorrhages and even brain damage were some of the injuries that could be sustained if a person stood behind the launcher.

"Cover your ears, girls! Cover your ears!" I screamed at the twins just a meter or two to my side.

Ige rushed forward from behind the vehicle's hood. His mouth moved, but I couldn't hear him. My heart, breathing and the snarling snapping of sharpened fangs filled my ears with dreaded urgency. I pulled the ten kilogram metal tube snug against my shoulder, double checking that the blurry darkened grey was my target. My index finger walked the trigger backwards before I felt the mushy break of the sear.

 _Bang! Whump!_

First came the explosion of the rocket assisted shell ejecting out of the tube. Like an 83mm single shot rifle, it kicked like a horse from the sudden propellant detonation. Loose grass was kicked up by the overpressure. Mists of water shredded from the blades. Back blasts from the Carl Gustav was strong enough to displace loose dirt, slapping a couple heavy slops of mud onto my back and legs. After the first initial kick, the rockets ignited, slapping me with another punch to my entire body. I could feel the sweat dripping down my neck instantly pulled away and blasted from my skin. My head rattled, jerking back from the sudden motion. The loud bang whump of the M3E1 was overwhelming loud to the point where it rang my ears even with hearing protection.

The HE441D shell punched through the mist just under the speed of sound. Tendrils of disturbed fog were left in the wake of the explosive shell. A flash of bright orange lit up the forest. Darkened brown bark shattered, splintered and fragmented from the blast. I caught a glimpse of thick black fur explode in a blanket of red. Murky rain obscured my view as hot shrapnel showered the tree line with blazing hot metal fragments. Blazing red eyes glowered back at me, boring holes into my soul.

A loud, ear splitting roar was the reply.

"You use an HE shell?!" Ige asked.

"Yeah! No damage, no damage! Get Moon to bring over the HEAT!" I screamed, lower the launcher and opening the breech.

The spent shell landed with a loud thud, still smoking from the firing. Roaring only got louder and more frequent. Small Garms no longer darted out from the mist. Larger and more muscled, the older beasts were joining the fight. It was like they were using the small, weak and offspring to probe us first. Now, it was the actual fight. The 7.62mm bullets we were firing had less effect on the larger creatures. What had taken just two to three rounds, now took a prolonged burst to down. Forty millimeter grenades still shredded them, however.

"Ryu!" Moon raised her voice to catch my attention.

"You know how to load the shells?" I asked as she shook her head.

I dropped the launcher and ran to grab the Mark 48. Explosions continued to constantly go off, the sounds of bones crunching, meaty bodies slamming into the ground and snapping of salivating teeth. As the blood seeped into the ground, I could see the red disappear into the dirt. What happened next took me by complete surprise. Green blades of grass turned brown, crinkly before finally turning white and crumbling into powder. Spots of white started spreading across the slope.

It didn't stop there.

Particles of the small reddish drops rose into the air, zipping back into the forest. The mist turned the same color as the zipping liquid. Whitish opaque fog turned a deep blood red. It was thick, congealed, moving around like a gelatinous piece of pudding. Tendrils started to sprout from its form. Mimi and Ige had shifted their fire from the retreating Garms towards the red blob. With expected results, the rounds zipped through and even some were caught in the gel. Long limbs stretched back into the forest, the pudding of blood slowly shrinking in size like it was being absorbed or assimilated into the greenery.

"Pull at the latch and extract the empty shell!" I screamed, standing up and firing bursts into the tree line to keep the regrouping hounds suppressed, "then grab a new round from the case, twist the cap to the right until it lines up with the second big hash mark, slam it into the tube and close the breech!"

 _Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump!_

Sparks were flying out from the flash hider of the Mark 48. I could feel the quickly warming barrel through my gloves. Gunmetal steel of the twenty-inch glowed a dull red from continuous burst fire. While powerful, the larger seven six two millimeter round also ran hot. Bore temperatures could be felt through the M-Pact gloves. Holding the LMG by the handguard was like holding your hand over an oven on full blast.

Sporadic rapid burst fire only made it worse.

I glanced back to see Moon slam the rear of the Carl Gustav shut.

"Ryu!" she shouted to grab my attention.

Grabbing the heavy composite tube, I pulled it over my right shoulder.

"Stand beside me and cover your ears," I ordered and glanced back, lowering my thermal/night vision goggles.

I saw the trees behind me rustling in the distance. The tree tops swayed unnaturally from side to side. At first, I thought the retreat was just a façade, a deceptive maneuver to get around our flanks. Bursting from the trees were trucks painted in shades brown, green and shades of grey. An entire column of HMVs were rushing towards our position. They were bristling to the teeth with weaponry, from the old Howa Type 64s and Type 89 to newly requisitioned Sumitomo Minimi Mark 3 for the larger Special Region candidates. On the tops of their trucks were M2HB fifty caliber heavy machine guns, Striker 40s and M134 Miniguns ready to unleash a wall of brass and lead.

"Back blast clear! Rocket out!" I yelled out to warn those around me.

Peering back into the sights and aiming roughly at the center of the tendrils glowing bright red, I squeezed the trigger and felt the punch of explosive air against my body.

 _Bang! Whump!_

Each time I fired the Carl Gustav, the two punch combo of the initial blast and the rocket motor slamming into my body always caught my off guard. It was so violent and instant that everything around and behind the weapon felt its immediate effect. The ground shook for a brief moment, everything trembled. Grass, dirt and pebbles were blasted into the air from the intense back blast. The very core of your body felt the launch. At close ranges below three hundred meters, the flight time was close to instantaneous. There was an immediate reaction. From pulling the trigger, I saw the shell blast through the smog and gelatinous tendrils slamming into the snout of a very large Garm.

An orange ball of explosive fire detonated against the cheek of the beast. A sickening crunching of bone, the burnt smell of charred meat and the instant vaporization of the congealed blood all happened just mere split-seconds after I pulled the trigger. The tendrils exploded into the mist and fell into the ground, instantly turning green fields of grass a sickly shade of grey. The delayed HEAT shell had smacked the hell hound in the face. Like a baseball impacting a soft pillow, the shell dug into the side of the Garm before exploding and spitting a jet of hot plasma straight through its skull.

"Good hit, good hit!" I screamed, throwing the Carl Gustav down and picking up the Mark 48.

"Uh…" Sawada murmured on the team radio, "the thermal sig's gotten warmer!"

"I've got Sasori 3 on the line. Two times F-2As with GBU-12s and FFARs, playtime zero plus thirty," Ige reported, his voice filled with static, "they're egressing south over us if you want them in."

"Make'em hold twenty miles out over the mountains! If all else fails, get them to strike danger close one fifty in front of us! We'll pull back and pop smoke if this thing doesn't go down!" I screamed in reply and glanced down towards Moon who was busy reloading the M3E1, "Moon, Moon, pull back towards the HMV! You able to carry that thing?"

"Mhmm," was her positive reply, the small girl hefting the launcher as if she was hugging a body pillow.

"Start the truck up Ige, we're mounting up!" I screamed.

I took a quick glance back, seeing Moon huffing with the lightened seven-kilogram Carl Gustav supported by her dainty but scarred arms and the Mark 17 SCAR dangling behind her. She was slowly dragging behind due to her small stride. Turning around, I raised the Mark 48. Arms starting to burn with lactic acid after the repeated motion of lifting the machine gun. I leaned in to the hunk of metal and squeezed the trigger. The weapon jumped in my arms, shaking while it spat out hot lead.

 _Thump-thump-thump-thump!_

"I've got you covered, kiddo!" I yelled, firing out in short, bursts at the while taking large steps backwards.

"Sasori's holding over the mountains," Ige reported on the comms.

"Affrim!" I grunted out a reply.

As I was backpedaling, the air around me seemed to explode into fire. Staccatos, deep thumping and loud roaring growls overpowered the monotonous baritones of the two Mark 48 LMGs. Occasional red rays of light exploding from the barrel had multiplied into a hive of angry zipping red tracers. They filled the entire forest with glowing red hate. Small-arms fire, large and small calibers, splintered trees and snapped off entire swaths of branches as they zipped through the foggy mist. Explosions rocked the valley with an unrelenting and continuous beat in an awesome show of force.

It seemed like all the time spent training on their vehicles didn't go to waste.

"Sergeant Raider!" one of the candidates yelled out, "you alright, Sergeant?"

The lead HMV came to a skidding stop. Heavy weight combined with slick mud made the thick tires respond with a wet squish as it settled into the ground. The class leader, hopped off from his vehicle and landed with a splat. Mud splashed onto already dried blots of light brown on his trousers. To be honest, almost all of his body was caked in it. The round faced officer's face camo was smeared by his sweaty skin and moisture. Parts of his left cheek was just exposed skin like the plastic bar of the radiophone had eaten all the paint. It was the same with part of his right chin. His stubble was poking through. Eyelids were droopy, shoulders slumped from exhaustion and even the green, black and brown paint couldn't hide his panda eyes.

"Yeah!" I screamed over the gunfire, "be ready to fallback if this doesn't kill whatever's in the that forest! We've got jets in the air that are enroute!"

"Major! The heat sigs are splitting up!" Sawada reported shrilly over the comms.

"Mount up, mount up! We need to move, _now_!" I ordered, jumping into the passenger seat of my HMV, "Ige, get us out of here and heading towards the main road!"

Roaring from the engine spun us around. The entire column of seventeen vehicles moved in unison. Without being told what to do, the vehicles formed an inverse and narrow V around ours. Gunfire and explosions went silent while each of the seventeen were reloading their heavy weapons. I made my way back towards the rear of our Mega Cruiser, giving the girls orders while they reloaded their weapons and prepped the Carl Gustav to fire another volley of anti-tank shells.

A chill ran through my spine.

 _Roar!_

Multiple deep roars echoed from the forest as I gripped the Mark 48 thrown into the rear. From the misty fog, large beasts the size of lorry trucks stomped out from the shadows. Glowing red eyes pierced through the vale. Large claws dug into the ground, tearing out large chunks of the muddy, white grass. I could feel their weight through the earth with each footfall. Hot steaming clouds escaped from their nostrils and open jaws filled with razor sharp teeth.

These things were even larger than the one I just slagged with the Carl Gustav.

"Ige, get me the radio!" I screamed, reaching out from the rear to grab the coiled wire of the radiophone from the frogman.

"All victors open fire! Give them everything you've got, open fire!" I heard Sawada scream as he spun the turret around.

"Sasori 3, Sasori 3, Susanowo Actual! Troops in contact, southeast of orbiting point! Flow one three five for twenty, descend one hundred and give us a supersonic pass! Look for the orange smoke! How copy?! Repeat, troops in contact!" I screamed into the radiophone, trying to give them information over the bangs, thumps and whumps of heavy weaponry.

"One three five for twenty at two hundred feet. Supersonic pass," came the readback.

"Readback correct! Report when in," I finished the call and turned back to Sawada, "Sawada, get on the radio and tell the other victors to prep their ATs for dual-charge HEAT for when we dismount!"

"Wait, what?! We're dismounting? You know those things will rip into us if we dismount right, Major?" Sawada yelled with doubt in his voice.

"Get us on top of that hill and the jets will take care of the rest! We won't make it if we get into the forest, they're more agile and nimble than we are! The only way is fight them out in the open!" I screamed back.

"If you say so! I'm going to trust you, Major!" Sawada sighed and squeezed the PTT on his vest.

Ige let out a roar, whether it was to pump himself up or keep up our racing tempo I didn't know. What I did know was Sawada and I joining him in that roar. I opened my mouth and squeezed the trigger to keep the sprinting Garms at bay. The larger 7.62 bullets did nothing to the upsized Garms except to annoy and slow them. Heavy slugs slammed into the pitch black tufts of fur and disappearing into the mass.

Similarly, the grenades being lobbed at them exploded with minimal effect. Superheated shrapnel sprayed onto their body and burned at their fur. Some sank into their bodies but had no effect on their frenzied sprinting. Dual-purpose shells slowed them, boring thumb-sized flaming holes into the area the grenades had detonated in. Fifty-caliber rounds struck them like a rifle round would a pouncing wolf. I watched as the first fifty-cal round striking one in the neck. The giant Garm yelped in pain, a spray of deep red painting the green grass beneath and turning them a pale ashy white. Three more zipped into its snout and head. Sprinting muscled legs and paws crumpled from the sudden loss of energy as the Garm tumbled, rolling to a lifeless halt after a short skid.

"Major! Your radio and SOFLAM!" Sawada screamed, holding out the radio and a large boxy monocular.

"Thanks!" I yelled back.

We were closing on the crest of the hill, the HMV roaring and whining to lug all of the additional weight up the slope. I snatched the radio from Sawada's hand and shoved in back into its sheath on the plate carrier. The SOFLAM was heavy and it was unwieldy large. It could easily be used as a bludgeon to knock someone out, but today it would help save our butts. With a bounce and a neck-breaking turn, Ige brought the HMV over the small hump and onto the small crest.

"We're here!" Ige reported as I stood up, safed the Mark 48 before throwing it onto the truck bed.

"Ige, cover us!" I ordered and hastily jammed the connectors to the radio, "Susanowo Actual to all victors, dismount and pound them with anti-tank weapons!"

I broke out into a short sprint, grabbing the SCAR and slinging it around my back. A free hand scooped up the hard plastic warhead containers before hopping onto the damp ground. The slope looked a lot steeper at the top than it was near the base. Giant snapping blurs of fur, muscle and teeth were frantically running up the incline with loud, squishing footfalls. I dumped the Carl Gustav, yanking the round canister from its pouch around my left waist.

"Smoke!" I screamed, tugging at the pin.

 _Pop!_

The fuse detonated with an energetic pop as thickening orange smoke rapidly shot out the bottom of the grenade. I tossed the signaling marker down the grassy slope, watching it skip and spin end over end before coming to a stop just before what I thought was mid-way down the hill. The orange column was now thick and blowing towards us in the wind. Sparks energetically spraying out from bottom of the grenade, failing to get the moisture slicked grass burning. A smog of orange started to obscure our vision, hiding the rapidly approaching Garms inside.

There was no time to hesitate.

Each second, the beasts were still gaining on us. Suppressing fire slowed, the candidates being unable to see in the swirling orange. I pulled down the monocular goggle over my left eye and picked up the Carl Gustav. Glancing back, I made sure to stand between our HMV's and another to ensure that the back blast wouldn't smack the rear of the vehicles with overpressure. A lot more than just damaged panels and ruptured ear drums would happen if there was unsecured ammunition in the mix.

Through the greenish white of the ENVG's IR only mode, I could only catch glimpses of the Garms in the thick, heated smoke. I paused and waited for a clear shot with my finger firmly on the M3E1's trigger. Annoyed, I couldn't pick anything up until one exited the smoke. The black furred beast punched through the thick orange, tendrils of orange smoke curling from the force of its exit. Orange streaked from its snout with red eyes dripping with the same colored liquid. It wasn't far from me. Just a couple more strides and it would be sinking dagger-like teeth straight through my neck. I gulped at the thought and felt a knot forming in my stomach, but my body was already reacting instinctively.

I knew the sensation intimately – it was fear.

Fear was what kept me alive.

 _Bang! Whump!_

The familiar slam of the blast punching my entire body at once. Sweat was blasted from my skin and a sudden jerk of my head being forced back slightly from the sudden launch of the massive warhead. The blast ripped the grass just a meter in front of launcher as I watched the shell fall into the black mass. Bone crumpled from the force of the large shell just before it vanished in a bright flash of red and orange. Blood burst from the detonating warhead before the orange flash shot heated copper straight into the bundle of bone and muscle. The head slumped immediately as it crashed into the dirt, spraying grass and mud everywhere from its heavy weight. A sickening snap was loud in the air. Its body flipped and slammed into the ground before rolling to a stop lifelessly just a meter or so from the smoke.

 _Crack! Whoosh!_

I couldn't see the passing Viper Zeros so much as hear them roar by, flying faster at the speed of sound.

"Sasori 3, Sasori 3, Susanowo Actual, visual!" I screamed into the radio, scrambling to load the next shell into the launcher.

There was no response.

"Sasori 3, Sasori 3! Susanowo Actual!" I yelled and tried to get a response from the jets.

Nothing.

"You get in contact with Sasori?!" Ige asked, screaming from the side of the HMV with a Mark 48 in his arms.

Something was wrong.

I paused, after slamming the shell into the split open rear of the M3E1. My left hand pulled out the radio and felt the blood drain from my face. While the radio was indeed partially charged and functioning, it seemed that it had lost its 'fill'. The secret algorithm for frequency hopping that allowed for secured comms was somehow lost between its recent charge. I could only talk to the jets on a single channel. Although it wasn't a problem here in the Special Region, if it was back on Earth, I might as well have used a signaling mirror or yell at the pilots instead as an unsecured signal could be easily intercepted.

"I lost the fill," I screamed back, "what open channel are they on?!"

"Fourteen!" Ige answer back swiftly, "one-four!"

My hands raced to punch in the channel into the radio before squeezing the push-to-talk on my vest, "Sasori 3, Sasori 3, Susanowo Actual on open channel four!"

"We hear you Susanowo. Sasori 3 is climbing for angels five and orbiting, we have eyes on the orange smoke. Ready for further talk-on," the radio buzzed with frenzied static.

"Sasori, be advised friendlies are to the northwest! Type III control, five-zero meters from the orange smoke southeast! Truck-sized wolves in the open and in the tree line, make your run three-two-zero to one-four-zero! Laser mark!" I screamed into the radio and grabbed the composite tube from the slick ground.

"Wolves in the open and on the tree line, three-two-zero, one-four-zero for attack run. Laser mark code – sixteen eighty-eight," the fighter pilot calmly regurgitated.

"Backblast clear! Rocket, rocket, rocket!" I yelled out shrilly as the words disappeared every now and then.

I was losing my voice.

 _Bang! Whump!_

The beasts were no longer foolish enough to rush through the smoky veil of orange. Instead, they lingered just behind it and used the wind swept smog to flank just far enough to move beyond my line of sight. If it wasn't for the tracers of the M2 Browning spat out by one of the candidate's vehicles, they would have gotten closer to us as the winds were starting to shift and the cloud of orange was blowing in the opposite of our direction. I didn't aim, snapping off the rocket as soon as I spotted the vague blob of orange in my thermal/night vision goggles. No sooner did I realize I was using the wrong shell. It might have been wrong but it worked wonders against the freakish beasts.

The long nosed HEAT round slammed into the side of the unexpecting Garm, detonating the first stage of its warhead with a flash of orange. The small charge charred the fur from a rough jet black into spots of crispy flaking grayish black. Just milliseconds later, the main charge exploded with a dazzling orange ball of fire that blinked in and out of existence. A chunk of red flew off from the wolf-like beast as black liquid poured out from its fresh neck wound. Matted hair turned into burning and sparkling matchsticks. It wasn't dead, slamming into the ground and writhing in what I could only assume was absolute pain as licks of orange-blue flames still burned.

"Readback correct! Remarks, danger close one five zero meters! Report when in," I blurted back to the pilots as I dumped the M3E1 and brought the SOFLAM to my eyes, "smoke's obscuring the tree line! I'm moving up to get a better track for the jets!"

"Saber 1, Saber 2, cover the Major! Move and fire just like we taught you!" Ige ordered into the radio.

I sprinted back towards the HMV to deposit the Carl Gustav I had just thrown into the ground and grab the Mark 48 from the trunk. There wasn't a thought in my mind as I rushed towards the other end of the slowly dispersing column of smoke. The grenade was slowly dying. There just wasn't enough time to wait for the thick plume to fade. Charging through the smoke, searing filled my lungs and my nose started to burn. Roars from the covering HMVs flanked me on either side. Loud whoosh could be heard flying past on both sides. Burning started to fill my legs as I broke through the smoke, dribbles of saliva wet against the corner of my lips from the smog.

It was a hell of a lot better than CS gas.

"Stop the vehicle, stop the vehicle!" I heard yelling from my side, "dismount and suppress those things!"

Glancing over, I saw the class leader hop out, brought his Type 89 up and preparing to fire down the hill. I watched as he operated the ill-thought out controls of the weapon, rotating the fire selector almost three-hundred and sixty degrees on the right side of the weapon to select automatic fire before squeezing the trigger in controlled bursts of three to four rounds. It was clumsy and would cost them their lives in close quarters combat no matter how hard they trained. It was even worse for left-handed shooters.

Save for the driver, the other two jumped out after him without hesitation and brought their own weapons to arms. One was human while the other was a Volraden. In his giant hands were the Minimi Mark 3 barking away rapidly at the quick approaching Garm while the M2 Browning fired at a slow and rhythmic pace. A loud bang drew my attention, the other HMV plowed head first into another truck-sized beast. I watched the occupants slam against the dash while the other heavy machine's large bullets tore into the wolf's thick pelt. Blood squirted out from the bullet holes and pierced its hardened skull. The metal fender crumpled against the force of the impact. Unsecured metal boxes shot forward and their packs were thrown in all directions. The candidate on the mounted machine gun was thrown clear from the vehicle, soaring over the Garm and down into the dirt behind it with a dull thud and sickening crack.

There was no time to waste.

"Sasori 3, in from the northwest," came the terse report.

I dropped the Mark 48 and pulled big boxy laser designator from its carabiner. Raising it to my eye, I pressed one of the buttons to switch to the briefed laser code and aimed for the center of the pack. There was half a dozen of the beasts still darting around. Far fewer than before, it seemed their smaller brethren had withdrawn. A giant short snouted similar to a goblin with radiant blue eyes, elongated sharp canines and webbed feet stood just behind the tree line with a hooded rider. I couldn't make out any features at the range. All I knew was that the figure was most likely the cause of all that was happening.

If it dies, hopefully the Garms will stop – or so I thought.

"Sasori 3, Susanowo Actual, laser on!" I yelled into the microphone and placed the crosshairs on the goblin-like beast.

"Susanowo, laser on. Spot, captured. Target is at the tree line, beast with rider," came the reply.

"Sasori 3, target confirmed! Cleared to engage, one five zero meters danger close!" I screamed, staring at the goblin lying about the red numbers at the bottom of my designator.

The crosshairs shook slightly from my vice-like grip. Spit started to dribble of the beast's mouth as I opened to reveal razor sharp daggers for teeth. Its jaw opened up far wider than natural. Blue shining eyes flickered orange like flames. The short snouted head lowered, it's shoulders and snapping in abnormal manners. Lengthening and enlarging, the beast was morphing larger and larger until it far bigger than the Garms. Long canines stretched to become the length of short swords and its bluish-red color deepened into a dark navy.

It opened its mouth once more to roar.

A cloud of brown swiftly swallowed the beast. I pulled the laser designator away to make sure that I was seeing things correctly. And damn, was I right. A giant stack of dirt and debris shot up and above the trees. I felt a small smile form on my face before a wall of air smack across my entire body. The blast lifted me off my feet and threw me into the ground just a couple steps behind me. Sweat was pulled away from my skin with one powerful vacuum before the sound actually reached my ears just moments later. A ringing robbed me of all hearing and the air seemed to have been sucked out of my lungs.

 _Bang!_

I closed my eyes and reached up with my left hand to cover them. My ears rang while the muted pitter-patter of raindrops fell onto my helmet and face. There was nothing liquid about it. It was hard and sometimes hurt. It was anything but rain, debris kicked up by the five-hundred pound bomb was raining back down. I laid there for a few moments and wheezing to get the air that was knocked out of my lungs back.

"…Susanowo, Susanowo, Sasori 3, attack complete. How copy? Susanowo, Susanowo," I heard the pilot repeating his report as I winced at the pain I felt all over my body.

"Roger Sasori 3," I grunted and wheezed, still laying on the ground and using a free hand to squeeze the push-to-talk, "good effect on targets. Can you strafe the tree line for me one more time and make sure whatever's there is either dead or gone? "

"Wilco Susanowo, Sasori 3 swinging around for reattack," came the pilot.

Footsteps squished the mud next to me, "you alright Sergeant Raider?"

"Seems like you ask me that a lot," I grunted and rolled over to push myself off the ground, "hell of a training day, eh?"

 _Brrrrtttttt!_

The short, sharp rapid staccato of the M61A2 Vulcan loud in the silence after the creature was covered in a towering column of dirt.


End file.
